
Book \ \ \ 



THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOB 



All the unsigned footnotes in this volume are by the 
writer of the article to which they are appended. The in- 
terpretation of the initials signed to the others is: I. G. 
= Israel Gollancz, M.A. ; H. N. H.^ Henry Norman 
Hudson, A.M.: C. H. H.= C. H. Herford, Litt.D. 



NEW NATIONAL EDITION 



THE COMPLETE WORKS OF 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

INTRODUCTION BY 
TEMPLE SCOTT 



WITH COPIOUS NOTES AND COMMENTS 
BY HENRY NORMAN HUDSON, M.A., 
ISRAEL GOIiLANCZ, M.A., C. H. HER- 
FORD, LITT.D., AND NUMEROUS OTHER 
EMINENT SHAKESPEARIAN AUTHORITIES 



MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR 

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

HENRY VIII 




NEW YORK 
HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY CO. 

PUBLISHERS 



If^ 



s^^%\ 



5^ 



Copyright, 1909. by 
BIGELOW. SMITH & COMPANY 



Copyright, 1914, by 
HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY CO. 



, _ .- ^roiR 



^y/V 24/9/4 



PREFACE 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 

THE EDITIONS 

The earliest known edition of The Merry Wives of 
Windsor is a Quarto printed in 1602, with the following 
title-page : — 

"A most pleasaunt and excellent conceited Comedie, of 
Sir lohn Falstaffe and the merrie Wiues of Windsor. En- 
termixed with sundrie variable and pleasing humors of 
Sir Hugh the Welch Knight, Justice Shallow, and his wise 
Cousin M. Slender. With the swaggering vaine of Aun- 
cient Pistoll, and Corporall Nym. By William Shake- 
speare. As it hath bene diuers times Acted by the right 
Honorable my Lord Chamberlaines Seruants. Both be- 
fore her Maiestie, and elsewhere. London Printed by 
T. C. for Arthur lohnson, and are to be sold at his shop 
in Powles Church-yard, at the signe of the Flower de 
Leuse and the Crowne" (reprinted in the Cambridge Shake- 
speare and in Hazlitt's Shakespeare'' s Library; a facsimile 
is included in Dr. Furnivall's Shakespeare Quartos, 
Quaritch). A second Quarto, a mere reprint of the first, 
appeared in 1619. 

In the first Folio the play occupies pp. 39-60 ; its length 
there is more than double that of the Quartos, from which 
it differs to such an extent as to give the impression of be- 
ing a revised and expanded version of a mere garbled and 
pirated sketch. 

DATE OF COMPOSITION 

The first Quarto was entered in the Stationers' Registers 
under date January 18 1602 ; the play was probably writ- 



Preface MERRY WIVES 

ten after Henry V, i. e. after the middle of the year 1599. 
In the epilogue to 11 Henry IV a promise had been given 
to continue the story with Sir John in it ; this promise 
was not kept in Henry V; and The Merry Wives, accord- 
ing to a well authenticated tradition, was composed by 
command of the Queen, "who obliged Shakespeare to write 
a Play of Sir John FalstafF in Love, and which I am very 
well assured he performed in a fortnight : a prodigious 
thing when all is well contrived, and carried on without the 
least confusion" (Gildon, 1710; Dennis first mentions the 
tradition in 1702; cp. title-page of 1602 edition). 

The date of the first composition of the play may with 
certainty be placed at about 1600 (probably Christmas 
1599).^ 

An old tradition identifies Justice Shallow with Shake- 
speare's old enemy. Sir Thomas Lucy (of the deer-poach- 
ing story) ; Lucy died in July, 1600, and it is held by 
some that the poet would not have waited "till his butt 
was in the grave before he aimed his shafts at him." At 
the same time it is noteworthy that the "dozen white 
luces" is only found in the Folio, not in the Quarto edi- 
tions. 

THE RELATION OF THE QUARTO AND FOLIO VERSIONS 

The question at issue, on which scholars are divided, is 
Avhether the Quarto represents a pirated edition of an early 
sketch of the play, revised and enlarged in the first Folio 
version, or whether both versions are to be referred back 
to the same original. In support of the former theory 
it is alleged that the substitution of "King" in the Folio 
(I, i, 119) for "council" of the Quarto, the possible refer- 
ence to the cheapening of knighthood ("These knights 

1 Shakespeare acted in Every Man in His Humour in 1598, and 
the two plays have much in common (cp. e. g. Ford and Kitely; 
Nym's reiteration of "humor," &c.). 

In the "Return from Parnassus" acted at Cambridge, probably 
Christmas, 1601, the French Doctor is obviously an imitation of Dr. 
Caius, 

vxii 



OF WINDSOR Preface 

will hack," II, i, 55), and similar internal evidence, point 
to the reign of James I; these scholars therefore date the 
Folio version about 1605. On the other hand, Mr. Daniel 
(Introduction to his editions) maintains that "the charac- 
ter of the publishers of the Quarto, its proved omissions, 
its recomposed passages (i e. passages actually the work 
not of Shakespeare, but of the note-taker), its retention 
of (essential) passages omitted in the Folio, the compli- 
cation in both of the time-plot lead almost inev- 
itably to the conclusion that there was but one original 
for both Quarto and Folio." He points out further that 
the alleged internal evidence of later revision is of little 
real value, but it is somewhat difficult to get rid of these 
minutiae, and some slight revision after 1603 is not incon- 
sistent with this latter theory. 

THE SOURCES 

The comedy o^ contemporary manners probably owed 
very little to older plays or novels, but it contains inci- 
dents not uncommon in Italian and other stories. In the 
following tales a suspicious husband is baffled much in the 
same way as Master Ford: — (1) The tale from II Pe- 
corone di Ser Giovanni Fiorentino; (2) The old English 
version of this story in The Fortunate, the Deceived, and 
the Unfortunate Lovers, 1632, reprinted in 1685; (3) 
The Tale in Straparola similar to that in II Pecorone; (4) 
The Tales of the Two Lovers of Pisa, from Tarlton's 
Newes out of Pergatorie, 1590; (5) The second tale from 
Straparola, in which the youth makes love to three ladies 
at once {cp. Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library, Part I, vol. 
iii). 

HERNE 

It would seem that there existed in Shakespeare's day a 
tradition at Windsor that Heme was one of the keepers 
of the Park, who, having committed an offense for which 
he feared to be disgraced, hung himself upon an oak, 
which was ever afterwards haunted by his ghost. 



Preface MERRY WIVES 

The difference between the Quarto and Folio reference 
to the story is noteworthy ; the former reads : — 

"Oft have you heard since Home the hunter dyed . . ." 

The Folio makes the tale a more ancient one (cp. IV. iv. 
37-39). 

The earliest notice of "Heme's oak" is in a Plan of the 
Town and Castle of Windsor and Little Park (Eton, 
1742) ; in the map a tree marked "Sir John FalstaiF's 
oak" is represented as being on the edge of a pit just on 
the outside of an avenue which was formed in the seven- 
teenth century, and known as Queen Elizabeth's Walk. 
Halliwell first printed, in his edition of the Quarto, a set 
of verses Upon Heme's Oak being cut down in the spring 
of 1796. Antiquarian research has demonstrated the ex- 
actness of Shakespeare's knowledge of Old Windsor (cp. 
Tighe and Davis' Annals of Windsor, Vol. i, pp. 673- 
686). 

DURATION OF ACTION 

As the play stands in the Quartos and Folios it is im- 
possible to arrange the time consistently, owing to the 
confusion as regards Falstaff's interviews with the Merry 
Wives in Act III, sc. v ; the errors are probably due to 
compression of the play for stage purposes. The first 
part of the scene, according to Mr. Daniel (Translations 
of New Shakespeare Society, 1878-9), is inseparably con- 
nected with the day of Falstaff's first interview with Mrs. 
Ford ; the second part is as inseparably connected with 
the day of the second interview. The first part clearly 
shows us Falstaff in the afternoon, just escaped from his 
ducking in the Thames ; the second part as clearly shows 
him in the early morning about to keep his second ap- 
pointment with Mrs. Ford. He proposes to make Ford's 
portion of the scene commence the 4th Act, changing 
good morrow into good even (Act III., v, 29) and this 
morning into to-morrow morning (Act III, v, 47). Ac- 
cording to this arrangement the following time analysis 



OF WINDSOR Preface 

would result: — Day 1, Act I, sc. i to iv; Day 2, Act II, 
sc. i to iii, Act III, sc. i to iv, and the Quickly portion 
of scene v ; Day 3, the Ford portion of Act III, sc. v, to 
end of the play. 

If this suggestion is carried out, a further change is 
necessary in Act V, i, 14, where this morning should be 
read in place of yesterday. 

TIME OF ACTION 

Though the play was in all probability composed after 
Henry V, the action may be supposed to take place after 
the events recorded at the end of II Henry IV; the 
further degradation of the character of Falstaff in The 
Merry Wives belongs to the early years of "the madcap 
prince's" reign, when he had already renounced "the tutor 
and the feeder of his riot." The characters intimately as- 
sociated with Falstaff were transferred with him from II 
Henry IV, with the exception of "Nym," who appears for 
the first time in Henry V; Shallow's "cousin," Slender, of 
The Merry Wives, takes the place of "Silence" of II 
Henry IV; Mistress Quickly is identical only in name witb 
the Hostess Quickly of Henry IV, and Henry V. 



INTRODUCTION 

By Henry Norman Hudson, A.M. 

The Merry Wives of Windsor, as we have it. was first 
printed in the folio of 1623, w^here it occupies the third 
place in the list of Comedies. An imperfect and prob- 
ably fraudulent edition, however, came out in 1602, and 
was reprinted in 1619. In this edition the play is but 
about half as long as in the authentic copy of 1623; the 
scenes following each other in the same order, except in 
one instance ; and some prose parts being printed in the 
manner of verse. ]\Iuch question has been made, whether 
the impression of 1602 were from a correct copy of an 
unfinished play, or from a report stolen at the theater and 
mangled in the stealing. 

Of course every reader of Shakespeare has heard the 
tradition that Queen Elizabeth, upon witnessing the per- 
formance of Henry IV, was so taken with Falstaif that 
she forthwith requested the Poet to represent him in the 
quality of a lover; in compliance with which request he 
wrote The Merry Wives of Windsor. Queen Elizabeth 
was indeed a great woman, and did some great things: 
but if it were certain that she was thus the occasion of this 
play, there are many who would not scruple to set it 
down as the best thing she had any agenc}^ in bringing 
to pass ; and another many who might regard it as the best 
but one. If this be wrong, there is no help for it ; for 
such, assuredly, will always be the case so long as men can 
"laugh and grow fat." 

But there is much diversity of judgment touching the 
amount of credit due to this tradition. Mr. Collier says: 
"When traced to its source, it can be carried back no 



JNIERRY WIVES Introduction 

further than 1702.: John Dennis in that year printed his 
Comical Gallant, founded upon The Merry Wives of 
Windsor, and in the dedication he states that 'the comedy 
was written at the command of Queen Ehzabeth, and by 
her direction; and she was so eager to see it acted, that 
she commanded it to be finished in fourteen days.' Dennis 
gives no authority for any part of this assertion : but be- 
cause he knew Dryden, it is supposed to have come from 
him ; and because Dryden was acquainted with Davenant, 
it has been conjectured that the latter communicated it to 
the former. We own that we place little or no reliance on 
the story, especially recollecting that Dennis had to make 
out a case in favor of his alterations, by showing that 
Shakespeare had composed the comedy in an incredibly 
short period, and consequently that it was capable of im- 
provement." 

All which is clever and spirited enough, but strikes us 
as a rather too summary disposing of the matter ; the tra- 
dition not being incredible in itself, nor the immediate 
sources of it unentitled to confidence : for, granting that 
"Dennis had to make out a case in favor of his alter- 
ations," w^ould he not be more likely to avail himself of 
something generally received, than to get up so question- 
able a fabrication.? The date of his statement was but 
eighty-six years after the Poet's death ; — a time when 
much traditionary matter, handed down from the reign of 
Elizabeth, was doubtless in circulation, that had not yet 
got into print : Dennis moved more or less in the literary 
circle of which Dryden w^as the center ; and that circle, 
however degenerate, was the lineal successor of the glo- 
rious constellation gathered about Shakespeare. It is 
considerable that Dennis gave no reason for the Queen's 
alleged request ; which reason Rowe a few years later stated 
to be the pleasure she had from Falstaff in Henri/ IV; 
— a difference of statement that rather goes to accredit 
the substance of the tradition, because it looks as if both 
drew from a common source, not. one from the other; 
each using such and so much of the traditionary matter 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

as would best serve his turn. Their account, or rather, 
perhaps, the general belief from which it was taken, was 
received by Pope, Theobald, and other contemporaries, — 
men who would not be very apt to let such a matter go 
unsifted, or help to give it currency unless they thought 
there was good ground for it. 

An excellent and pleasant conceited comedy of Sir 
John Falstaff and the Merry Wives of Windsor was en- 
tered in the Registers of the Stationers' Company, Jan. 
18, 1602. The title-page of the edition which came out 
soon after reads thus : A most pleasant and excellent con- 
ceited comedy of Sir John Falstaff and the Merry Wives 
of Windsor; intermixed with sundry variable and pleas- 
ing humours of Sir Hugh the Welch Knight, Justice Shal- 
low, and his wise Cousin M. Slender; with the swaggering 
vein of Ancient Pistol, and Corporal Nym. By William 
Shakespeare. As it hath been divers times acted by the 
Right Honourable my Lord Chamberlain's servants; both 
before Her Majesty, and elsewhere. We may set it down, 
therefore, as tolerably certain that The Merry Wives of 
Windsor was performed before the Queen near the close 
of 1601, notwithstanding the opinion of Chalmers, that 
"she was then in no mood for such fooleries." And prob- 
ably one reason for getting up the piratical edition of 
1602 was, that the play had been "divers times acted, both 
before Her Majesty and elsewhere." Now, that Queen 
Elizabeth was capable of appreciating the genius of Fal- 
staff, will hardly be questioned ; that she had been present 
at the performance of Henry IV, is quite probable, con- 
sidering the great popularity of that play as evinced in 
that five editions of it were published between 1598 and 
1613 ; that, having seen the irresistible Knight as there 
presented, she should desire to see more of him, was cer- 
tainly natural enough: all which being granted, there ap- 
pears nothing to hinder, either that she should request the 
Poet to continue the character through another play, or 
that he should hasten to comply with the request. More- 
over, we learn from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

that The Merry Wives of Windsor was acted before King 
James, in November, 1604. May we not justly conclude, 
then, that this was probably one of the plays referred to 
by Ben Jonson in his noble poem, To the Memory of my 
beloved Mr. William Shakespeare, and what he hath left 
us? 

"Sweet Swan of Avon, what a sight it were. 

To see thee in our waters j^et appear; 

And make those flights upon tlie banks of Thames, 

That so did take Eliza and our James !" 

So that, upon the whole, we can by no means bring our- 
selves to regard the forecited tradition with the contempt 
which Mr. Collier seems to think it deserves. The only 
part of it that much troubles us to digest, is that concern- 
ing the time wherein it makes the play to have been writ- 
ten : this, we confess, staggers us somewhat : yet, suppos- 
ing it to be false, it does not greatly invalidate the sub- 
stance of the tradition ; and we are well assured that the 
play, as published in 1602, might well enough have been 
written by Shakespeare within the time alleged. The 
question, therefore, turns somewhat upon the point, whether 
that edition was from a correct copy of an imperfect and 
unfinished play, a sort of rough draught hastily gotten up 
for the occasion, or from a false and mutilated copy stolen 
from the actors' lips by incompetent reporters, to gratify 
the cupidity of unscrupulous publishers. This question 
we have not room to discuss; and, if we had, the long 
discussions, indulged in by former critics to little pur- 
pose, shuts us up from all hope of being able ever to de- 
termine it. We may remark, however, there can be little 
doubt that the edition of 1602 was fraudulent and surrep- 
titious; though this need not infer but that it may have 
been from a faithful copy fraudulently obtained for the 
press. Yet there are some things in it, such as the print- 
ing of prose so as to look like verse, which go to show 
that it was partly taken down as spbken, and partly made 
up from memory; the pirates apparently having no ear 
to distinguish prose and verse, and so presuming it to be 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

poetry, because written by a poet. That such frauds and 
piracies were practiced with some of Shakespeare^s plays, 
scarce admits of dispute. But, for aught appears. The 
Merry Wives of Windsor may have been at that time very 
imperfect and inferior to what it is now, and yet the 
first edition a stolen and mangled copy of the play as it 
then was. And, whether from a correct or from a muti- 
lated transcript, that edition contains passages of which 
no traces are discoverable in the play as it now stands. 
Such is the following from the fifth act: 

"Sir Hugh. Go you and see where brokers sleep, 
And fox-ey'd Serjeants, with their mace; 
Go lay the proctors in the street. 
And pinch the lousy Serjeant's face: 
Spare none of these when they're a-bed. 
But such whose nose looks blue and red. 
Quickly. Away, begone; his mind fulfil. 

And look that none of you stand still: 
Some do that thing, some do this. 
All do something, none amiss." 

There being no corresponding passage in the later edition 
strongly argues that the play, at least in this part, was 
entirely rewritten after the first copy was taken for the 
press ; for men, whether purloining a manuscript or re- 
porting it as spoken, would obviously be much more apt 
to omit or alter words and sentences, than to make addi- 
tions or put in quite other matter. On the other hand, 
the authentic edition has some passages that can hardly 
be explained but upon the supposal that the play was re- 
vised, and those passages inserted, after the accession of 
James in the spring of 1603. Such is the odd reason 
Mrs, Page gives Mrs. Ford for declining to share the 
honor of Knighthood with Sir John : "These knights will 
hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy 
gentry:" which can scarce bear any other sense than as 
referring to the prodigality with which the King dis- 
pensed those honors in the first of his reign ; Knighthood 
being thereby in a way to grow so hackneyed that it would 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

rather be an honor not to have been dubbed. And, in- 
deed, perhaps it may as well be noted here, that many of 
Shakespeare's plays apparently underwent so many re- 
visals and improvements between the first sketching and 
the last finishing of them, that any allusions they may con- 
tain to the events of his time afford a very uncertain clew 
to the date of their original composition. 

There remains a question of some interest as to the time 
when The Merry Wives was first written ; whether before 
or after Henry IV ; for, if before, this at once upsets that 
part of the tradition which assigns the huge delight the 
Queen had at seeing Falstaff in wit and war, as the cause 
of her requesting to see him in love. Knight and Halli- 
well, taking the edition of 1602 as a faithful, though per- 
haps surreptitious, copy of the play as then written, date 
"the original sketch" as far back as 1592 or 1593. In 
proof of this they urge what passes between Sir Hugh 
Evans, "mine Host de Jarterre," and Dr. Caius, respect- 
ing "a duke de Jarmany" ; because in 1592 a German duke 
actually did travel in England, with such special priv- 
ileges and accommodations as are indicated in the play. 
Mr. Knight's argument runs thus: "Now, if we knew 
that a real German duke had visited Windsor, (a rare occur- 
rence in the days of Elizabeth,) we should have the date 
of the comedy pretty exactly fixed. The circumstance 
would be one of those local and temporary allusions which 
Shakespeare seized upon to arrest the attention of his au- 
dience. We have before us a narrative, printed in the old 
German language, of the journey to England of the Duke 
of Wurtemburg in 1592 ; which narrative, drawn up by his 
secretary, contains a daily journal of his proceedings. 
He was accompanied by a considerable retinue, and trav- 
eled under the name of "The Count Mombeliard." 

From the resemblance of this name to Garmomble, an 
apparent anagram of Mumpelgart, which occurs in the 
copy of 1602, Mr. Knight justly infers the identity of 
the person. Yet the force of his reasoning is not alto- 
gether apparent, as it proceeds by a very uncertain meas- 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

ure between the date of an event alluded to and the date 
of the allusion itself. Surely, in proportion to the rare- 
ness of an occurrence and the sensation it caused, it would 
naturally be remembered and remarked upon afterwards: 
nor is it easy to see how so rare and remarkable a thing 
as Mr. Halliwell represents this to have been, was "a mat- 
ter to be forgotten in 1601." Shakespeare's "local and 
temporary allusions," be it observed, were not merely for 
novelty and popularity, or used as ear-catchers to his au- 
dience ; but for whatsoever matter he saw in them that 
could be made to serve the general purposes of art: and 
that the thing in question would not so soon be spoilt 
for his use, appears in the interest it has for us ; and would 
have, even if we had never heard of any such event occur- 
ring in his time. 

In further proof of his point Mr. Knight alleges sev- 
eral passages from the finished play, which are not found 
in the "original sketch," and Avhich apparently refer to 
things occurring after the supposed date of that sketch. 
But all such arguments are at once nonsuited by the sup- 
position, which, to say the least, is a probable one, that 
the edition of 1602 was not from a faithful transcript, 
however obtained, of an unfinished play, but from a copy 
fraudulently taken down and made up by unskillful re- 
porters. 

There appears no good reason, therefore, but that The 
Merry Wives of Windsor may have been written after 
Henry IV, the First Part of which was first published in 
1598, and probably written the year before: that it was 
written earlier than 1596, nobody pretends. And that 
The Merry Wives had not been heard of in 1598, is further 
probable from its not being mentioned by Meres in his 
Wifs Treasury, which came out that year; for, his pur- 
pose being to approve Shakespeare "the most excellent 
among the English in both" comedy and tragedy, it seems 
rather unlikely that he would have passed by so apt a 
document of comic power, had it been known. 

A deal of perplexity has been gotten up as to the time 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

of the action in this play ; that is, in what period of his 
life Falstaff undertook the adventure at Windsor, whether 
before or after his exploits represented in Henry IV, or 
at some intermediate time: questions scarce worth the dis- 
cussing or even the raising, but that it would hardly do to 
ignore a thing about which there has been so much ado. 
Much of this perplexity seems to have risen from con- 
founding the order in which the several plays Avere made, 
with the order of the events described in them. Now, at 
the close of Henry IV Falstaff and his companions are 
banished the neighborhood of the Court, "till their con- 
versations appear more wise and modest to the world" ; 
and near the opening of Henry V, which follows hard upon 
the close of the former play, we have an account of Fal- 
staff's death. And because The Merry Wives of Windsor 
was probably written after both those plays, therefore the 
Poet has been thought by some to have ventured upon the 
questionable experiment of bringing Sir John and two of 
his followers upon the stage after their death; just as 
though one could not write the latter part of a man's life, 
and tell the story of his last hours, and then go back and 
give the history of his boyhood and youth, without break- 
ing the sacred peace of the grave. That the exploits at 
Windsor were before those at Gadshill, Eastcheap, and 
Shrewsbury, in the order of time, is shown by Mrs. Quick- 
ly's progress ; who in the Merry Wives is a maiden and 
the housekeeper of Dr. Caius ; but in the other plays she 
has become a wife, though still Quickly ; then she 
dwells awhile in widowhood, until, the sweetness of her 
former marriage having taught her better than to live 
out of wedlock, "she taketh to herself another mate." And 
the same thing is further shown in Falstaff's fearing lest 
the noise of his shames should come to the ears of the 
Court ; which fear could hardly be, but that he still have 
something there to lose : for he seems not to be aware how 
completely his genius in other exigencies will triumph over 
his failures in love-making. Nevertheless, it must be 
owned that the Poet, probably because the subject never 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

occurred to him, or because he sometimes lost the his- 
torical order of things in an overmastering sense of art, 
did not in all cases take care to shun such anachronisms 
as criticism hath delighted to find in his plays. Perhaps It 
should be observed in this connection, that the two parts 
of Henry IV cover a period of ten and a half years, from 
the battle of Homildon, September, 1402, to the death of 
the King, March, 1413; in which time Falstaff doubtless 
had intervals of leisure for such adventures as those at 
Windsor. So that the action of the Comedy, supposing it 
Avere not before, might well enough have taken place some 
time during, the action of the History. And if the for- 
mer seems too early a date for the mention of "the wild 
Prince and Poins" ; it would be considered that the Poet 
represents the Prince as already noted for his loose and 
idle courses, his connection with the rioters of Eastcheap 
having begun even before his father reached the throne. 

For the plot and matter of The Merry Wives, Shake- 
speare was apparently little indebted to any thing but his 
own invention. The Two Lovers of Pisa, a tale borrowed 
from the novels of Straparola, and published in Tarlton's 
Newes out of Purgatorie, 1590, is thought to have sug- 
gested some of the incidents ; and the notion seems prob- 
able enough. In that Tale a young gallant falls in love 
with a jealous old doctor's wife, who is also young, and 
really encourages the unlawful passion. The gallant, not 
knowing the doctor, takes him for confidant and coun- 
selor in the prosecution of his suit, and is thus thwarted 
in all his plans. The naughty wife conceals her lover first 
in a basket of feathers, then between the ceilings of a 
room, and again in a box of deeds and valuable papers. 
If the Poet had any other obligations, they have not been 
traced clearly enough to be worth the mentioning. 

As a specimen of pure comedy, The Merry Wives of 
Windsor by general concession stands unrivaled ; the play 
being not only replete with the most ludicrous situations 
and predicaments, but surpassingly rich both in quality 
and variety of comic characterization. To say nothing 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

of FalstafF, who is an inexhaustible store-house of laugh- 
ter-moving preparations, there is comic matter enough in 
the other persons to keep the world in perpetual laughter. 
Though historically connected with the reign of Henry 
IV, the play is otherwise a delineation of the manners and 
humors of the Poet's time : in which view we need but com- 
pare it with Ben Jonson's Every Man in His Humour, 
great as is the latter, to see "how much easier it was to 
vanquish the rest of Europe than to contend with Shake- 
speare." 

The action of this play proceeds throughout by in- 
trigue ; meaning thereby such a complication of cross- 
purposes and conflicting aims, wherein the several persons 
strive to outwit and circumvent one another. And the 
stratagems all have the appropriate merit of causing a 
grateful surprise, and a perplexity that interests because 
it stops short of confusion ; while the awkward and gro- 
tesque predicaments, into which the persons throw each 
other by their cross-plottings and counter-plottings, are 
often a source of exquisite diversion. The play finely 
illustrates, moreover, though in its own peculiar line, the 
general order and method of Shakespeare's art ; the sur- 
rounding parts falling in with the central one, and the 
subordinate plots drawing, as by a hidden impulse, into 
harmony with the leading one: if Falstaif be doomed to 
repeated collapses from a hero into a butt, that others may 
laugh at him instead of with him, the Welch Parson and 
French Doctor are also defeated of their revenge, just as 
they are getting over the preliminary pains and vexa- 
tions, and while pluming themselves with forthcoming hon- 
ors are suddenly deplumed into "vlouting-stogs" ; Page 
and his wife no sooner begin to exult in their success than 
they are taken down by the thrift of a counter-stratagem, 
and left to the double shame of ignobly failing in a dis- 
reputable undertaking; and Ford's jealousy is made to 
scourge him with the very whip he has twisted for the 
scourging of its object. Thus all the more prominent 
characters have to chew the ashes of disappointment in 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

turn, their plans being thwarted, and themselves made 
ridiculous, just as they are on the point of grasping 
their several fruitions. But Falstaff is the only one of 
them that rises by falling and extracts grace out of his 
very disgraces. For in him the grotesque and ludicrous 
is evermore laughing and chuckling over itself: he makes 
comedies extempore out of his own shames and infirmities ; 
and is himself the most delighted spectator of the side- 
shaking scenes where himself figures as chief actor. 

This observation and enjoyment of the comical as ex- 
hibited in himself, which forms perhaps the leading char- 
acteristic of Sir John, and explains much in him that were 
else inexplicable, is here seen, however, laboring under 
something of an eclipse. The truth is, Falstaff is plainly 
out of his sphere ; and he shows a sad want of his usual 
sagacity and good sense in getting into it, — in suppos- 
ing for a moment that he could inspire such a passion in 
such a place : nor does it seem probable that the Poet would 
have exhibited him thus, but that he Avere moved thereto 
by somewhat else than the native promptings of his genius. 
For of love in any right or respectable sense Sir John 
is essentially incapable ; and to represent him otherwise, 
had been to contradict, not carry out, his character. 
Shakespeare doubtless understood this ; and, being thus re- 
duced to the alternative of committing a gross breach of 
decorum or of making the hero unsuccessful, the moral 
sanity of his genius left him no choice. Accordingly Sir 
John is here conspicuous not so much for what he prac- 
tises as for what is practised upon him ; he being, in fact, 
the dupe and victim of his own heroism, and provoking 
laughter more by that he suffers than by that he does. So 
that the internal evidence of the play strongly favors the 
tradition of the Queen's requesting to see Falstaff in love ; 
as such request affords the only clear solution of the Poet's 
representing one who was plainly a favorite with him in so 
unsuitable a quality. For, if we may believe Hazlitt, "wits 
and philosophers seldom shine in that character" ; and, 
xxii 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

whether this be true or not, it is certain that "Sir John by 
no means comes off with flying colors." 

But Falstaff^, notwithstanding these drawbacks, is still so 
far himself that "naught but himself can be his con- 
queror." If he be overmatched, it is not so much by the 
strength or skill of his antagonists, as from his being per- 
suaded, seemingly against his will and for the pleasure of 
others, into a line of adventure where he is not qualified 
to thrive. His incomparable art of turning adversities 
into commodities ; the good-humored strategy whereby he 
manages to divert off all unpleasant feehng of his vices 
and frailties ; the marvelous agility and aptness of wit 
which, with a vesture of odd and whimsical constructions, 
at once hides the offensive and discovers the comical fea- 
tures of his conduct ; the same towering impudence and sub- 
lime effrontery, which so lift him aloft in his subsequent 
exploits ; and the overpowering eloquence of exaggeration, 
with which he delights to set off and heighten whatsoever 
IS most ludicrous in his own person or situation ; — all these 
qualities, though not in their full bloom and vigor, are here 
to be seen in triumphant exercise. 

Upon the whole, however, this bringing forth of Sir 
John more for exposure than for exhibition is not alto- 
gether grateful to those whom he has so often convulsed 
into health: though he still gives us wholesome shakings, 
we feel that it costs him too much: the rare exhilaration 
he affords us elsewhere, and even here, invests him with a 
sort of humorous reverence ; insomuch that we can hardly 
help pitying even while we approve his merited, yet scarcely 
merited, shames and failures ; and we would fain make out 
some excuse for him on the score of these slips' occurring 
earlier in his life, when experience had not yet disciplined 
away the natural vanity which may sometimes lead a man 
of genius to fancy himself the object of the tender passion. 
And in like manner we are apt to apologize for the Poet's 
exposure of his and our favorite, on the ground that, 
being to represent him in an enterprise where he could 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

■not deserve success, nor even work for it but by knavery, 
he was under a strong mora] necessity of causing him not 
only to be thwarted, but to become the laughing-stock of 
those who thwart him, and, which is especially galling to 
one so wit-proud as Sir John, "to stand at the taunt of 
one that makes fritters of English." And we are the 
more disposed to leniency towards FalstafF amid his un- 
paralleled swampings, forasmuch as his merry persecutors 
are but a sort of decorous, respectable, common-place peo- 
ple, who borrow their chief importance from the victim 
of their mischievous sport ; and if they are not so bad as 
to make us vi'ish him success, neither are they so good that 
we like to see them grow^ at his expense. But on this point 
Mr. Verplanck has spoken so aptly, that mere justice to 
the subject bids us quote him: "Our choler would rise, 
despite of us, against Cleopatra herself, should she pre- 
sume to make a dupe and tool of regal old Jack, the natural 
lord and master of all about him ; and, though not so 
atrociously immoral as to wish he had succeeded with the 
Windsor gypsies, we plead guilty to the minor turpitude 
of sympathy, when he tells his persecutors, with brighten- 
ing visage and exultant twinkle of eye, — 'I am glad, 
though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that 
3^our arrow hath glanc'd.' " 

A further account of this huge magazine of comedies 
must be deferred till we encounter him at the noon of his 
glory, stealing, drinking, lying, recruiting, warring, and 
discoursing of wine, wit, valor, and honor, with Prince 
Hal at his side to wrestle forth the prodigies of his big- 
teeming brain. 

Sir John's followers are under the cloud with him, be- 
ing little more than the shadows of what they appear 
when their master is fully himself: the light of Bardolph's 
nose is not well kindled yet ; Pistol, ancient Pistol's tongue 
has not yet learned to strut with such potent impotence 
as it elsewhere waxes great withal. Quickly, however, is 
altogether herself as far as she goes, and she lets off some 
brilliancies that would not discredit her maturity in the 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

more congenial atmosphere of Eastcheap; though, of 
course, we ma}'^ not expect her to be the woman now that she 
will be when she has known Sir John "these twenty-nine 
years, come peascod time." Acting here in the capacity of 
a matchmaker and go-between, her perfect impartiality to- 
wards all of Anne Page's suitors, both in the service she 
renders and in, the return she accepts, finely exemplifies the 
indefatigable benevolence of that class of worthies towards 
themselves, and is so true to the life of a certain perpetual 
sort of people, as almost to make one believe in the trans- 
migration of souls.— -"Mine Host of the Garter" is indeed 
a model of a host: up to any thing, and brimful of fun, 
so that it runs out at the ends of his fingers, nothing suits 
him so well as to uncork the wit-holders of his guests, un- 
less, peradventure, it be to uncork his wine-holders for 
them. His exhilarating conceit of practical shrewdness, — - 
"Am I politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel?"— which 
serves as oil to make the wheels of his mind run smooth 
and glib, is richly characteristic, both of himself individ- 
ually and of the class he represents. — Sir Hugh Evans is 
an odd marriage of the ludicrous and the respectable. In 
his officious simplicity he moralizes the pla!y much better, 
doubtless, than a wiser man could do it. The scene Avherc, 
in expectation of the fight with the French doctor, he is 
full of "cholers," and "trempling of mind," and "melan-' 
cholies," and has "a great dispositions to cry," and strikes 
up a lullaby to the palpitations of his heart without seem- 
ing to know it, while those palpitations in turn scatter his 
memory and discompose his singing, is replete with a quiet 
delicacy of humor, hardly to be surpassed. It is quite 
probable, as hath been said, that both he and Doctor Caius 
are delineations, slightly caricatured, of what the Poet had 
seen and conversed with ; there being a portrait-like reality 
and effect about them, with just enough infusion of the 
ideal to lift them into the region of art. 

Hazlitt boldly pronounces Shakespeare "the only writer 
who was as great in describing weakness as strength." 
However this may be, we are pretty sure, that after Fal- 



Introduction MERRY WIVES 

staff there is not a greater piece of work m the play than 
Master Abraham Slender, cousin to Robert Shallow Es- 
quire, — a dainty sprout, or rather sapling, of provincial 
gentry, who, once seen, is never to be forgotten. In his 
consequential verdancy, his aristocratic official boobyism, 
and his lean-Avitted, lack-brain originality, this pithless 
hereditary squireling is altogether inimitable and irresisti- 
ble ; — a tall though slender specimen of most effective im- 
becility, whose manners and character must needs be all 
from within, because he lacks force of nature enough to 
shape or dress himself by any model. Mr. Hallam, whose 
judgment in such things is not often at fault, thinks Slen- 
der was intended as "a satire on the brilliant youth of the 
provinces," such as they were "before the introduction of 
newspapers and turnpike roads ; awkward and boobyish 
among civil people, but at home in rude sports, and proud 
of exploits at which the town would laugh, yet perhaps with 
more courage and good-nature than the laughers." 

Ford's jealousy is managed with great skill so as to help 
on the plot, bringing out a series of the richest incidents, 
and drawing the most savory issues from the mellow, juicy 
old sinner upon whom he is practising. The means where- 
by he labors to justify his passion, spreading temptations 
and then concerting surprises, are quite as wicked as 
any thing Falstaff does, and have, besides, the further 
crime of exceeding meanness ; but both their meanness and 
their wickedness are of the kind that rarely fail to be their 
own punishment. The way in which his passion is made 
to sting and lash him into reason, and the crafty discre- 
tion of his wife in glutting his disease and thereby making 
an opportunity to show him what sort of stuff it lives on, 
are admirable instances of the wisdom with which the Poet 
delights to underpin his most fantastical creations. The 
counter-plottings, also, of Page and his wife, to sell their 
daughter against her better sense, are about as far from 
virtue as the worst purposes of Sir John ; though their 
sins are of a more respectable kind than to expose them to 
ridicule. But we are the more willing to forget their un- 
xxvi 



OF WINDSOR Introduction 

handsome practices herein, because of their good-natured 
eiforts at last to make Falstaff forget his sad miscarriages, 
and to compose whatsoever vexations and disquietudes still 
remain, in a well-crowned cup of social merriment. — Anne 
Page is but an average specimen of discreet, placid inno- 
cent mediocrity, yet with a mind of her own, in whom we 
can feel no such interest as a rich father causes to be felt 
by those about her. In her and Fenton a slight dash of 
romance is given to the play ; their love forming a barely 
audible undertone of poetry in the grand chorus of com- 
icalities, as if on purpose that while the sides are shaken the 
heart may not be left altogether untouched. 



COMMENTS 

By Shakespearean Scholars 

FALSTAFF 

Two features strike us at a glance as being clear and 
prominent in Falstaff's character; on the one hand, his 
great wealth of wit, his inexhaustible store of happy de- 
vices, plots and pranks, and the indestructibility of his 
good humor; on the other hand, his equally great amount 
of sensuality, love of pleasure and excessive carnal lusts. 
The point de "vue of his life, and the center upon which 
all his aims and actions turn, is, that his wit, his inventive 
talents, and his shrewdness shall in all cases furnish him 
with the means of gratifying his sensual desires, and pro- 
tect him in case of need. Enjoyments of every description 
he must have; and it is only a good joke, a successful 
piece of mischief — to him the greatest of all enjoyments — 
that he thinks even more attractive than a glass of sack 
and the charms of Dolly Tear-sheet. FalstafF is the most 
consummate epicurean, in the form of a knight of Shak- 
speare's day but — owing to a halo of ingenious and irre- 
sistible wit, and an ideal mental freedom, which humor- 
ously disregard all difficulties, and even the whole 
seriousness of life — an epicurean who appears to a certain 
extent spiritualized, sublimated into a sort of poetical ideal, 
which raises him far above the usual run of common rakes, 
and prevents moral indignation from casting its judgment 
upon him. Falstaff^ does not possess any great passions, 
because to gratify them would cost him too much trouble, 
and aff*ord an indeed great, but after all only a passing 
enjoyment. He has also nothing in common with actual 
wickedness and gross crimes and vices, because the former 
xxviii 



JNIERRY WIVES Comments 

undermine their own enjo^nnent, and also because they are 
inseparably connected with hate ; moreover, great crimes 
are accomplished only with trouble and exertion, and are 
always followed by a dread of punishment ; gross vices, 
lastly, necessarily blunt and deaden the sense of enjoy- 
ment. Neither is he at all jealous or envious — for envy 
is its own tormentor — he is more inclined to be glad to 
see others enjojang themselves, and even helps his boon- 
companions in attaining their desires, as long as these 
do not cause himself any inconvenience or annoyance. 
But as regards the lesser sins, such as bragging, lying 
and deceiving, he is not over-particular, and has even no 
great objections to a little thieving, when it can be done 
easily, and especially when connected with some good joke. 
He trusts to his wit to save him from any unpleasant conse- 
quences of such bagatelles; such things he considers nat- 
ural and unavoidable because he cannot find any enjoy- 
ment or procure the means of any enjoyment without them. 
If this were possible he would rather not be guilty of a 
single transgression, except as a joke, and even though 
not altogether good and virtuous, still he would like — with- 
out a struggle, however — to be upright and honest. It 
is true he likes virtue even less than vice, because it de- 
mands a greater amount of energy, and, worst of all, self- 
denial and self-control. He does not believe in virtue ; he 
thinks it a delusive piece of sophistry, a mere illusion to 
suppose that any one should give up enjoyment and pleas- 
ure against the instincts of nature, in order to obtain so- 
called true happiness. To him, therefore, virtue, like 
honor, is a mere "word," a thing that no one possesses, that 
has "no skill in surgery," but at most is an honor to the 
dead who are insensible to it ; hence a mere "scutcheon," so 
"he'll none of it." And yet, at the same time, he knows 
very well that he must appear to possess certain virtues 
such as bravery, honesty, and above all things honor and 
authority ; for without the appearance of these he would 
find it impossible to live. Accordingly his wit and shrewd- 
ness have here again to come to his aid, together with his 
?:xix 



Comments MERRY WIVES 

consummate impudence. In the same way as his inventive 
genius is inexhaustible when wanted to help him out of 
scrapes, and other difficulties, so the manner in which he 
contrives to impose upon blockheads and simpletons is in- 
imitable. And as the aim of his existence, in a double 
sense, has so wholly become flesh and blood, and is steadily 
pursued by him, so, in spite of all obstacles, he in most 
cases succeeds in attaining his object. The result of this 
is a captivating nonchalance and naturalness, and an im- 
posing amount of self-confidence. — Ulrici, Shakespeare's 
Dramatic Art. 

MISTRESS PAGE AND MISTRESS FORD 

There are the two "Merry Wives" themselves. What a 
picture we have of buxom, laughing, ripe beauty ! ready for 
any frolic "that may not sully the chariness of their hon- 
esty." That jealous-pate, Ford, ought to have been sure 
of his wife's integrity and goodness, from her being so 
transparent-charactered and cheerful ; for your insincere 
and double-dealing people are sure to betray, some time or 
other, the drag that dishonesty claps upon the wheel of 
their conduct. The career of a deceitful person is never 
uniform. In the sequel, however, Ford does make a hand- 
some atonement — that of a frank apology to the party 
whom he had abused by his suspicions ; and he winds up the 
play with the rest, not the least happy of the group from 
having an enfranchised heart. He says well : — 

"Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt. 
I rather will suspect the sun with cold 
Than thee with wantonness. Now doth thy honour stand. 
In him that was of late a heretic, 
As firm as faith." 

— Gierke, Shakespeare-Characters. 

THE GHARAGTERS OF THE PLAY 

Ford's jealousy, which is the main spring of the comic 
incidentSj is certainly very well managed. Page, on the 



OF WINDSOR Comments 

contrary, appears to be somewhat uxorious in his dispo- 
sition ; and we have pretty plain indications of the effect 
of the characters of the husbands on the different degrees 
of fidehty in their wives. Mrs. Quickly makes a very 
lively go-between, both between Falstaff and his Dulcineas, 
and Anne Page and her lovers, and seems in the latter 
case so intent on her own interest as totally to overlook 
the intentions of her employers. Her master. Dr. Caius, 
the Frenchman, and her fellow-servant Jack Rugby, are 
very completely described. This last-mentioned person is 
rather quaintly commended by Mrs. Quickly as "an honest, 
willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house 
withal, and I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no breed-bate ; 
his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer ; he is some- 
thing peevish that way ; but nobody but has his fault." 
The Welch Parson, Sir Hugh Evans (a title which in those 
days was given to the clergy) is an excellent character in 
all respects. He is as respectable as he is laughable. He 
has "very good discretions, and very odd humours." The 
duel-scene with Caius gives him an opportunity to show his 
"cholers and his tremblings of mind," his valor and his 
melancholy, in an irresistible manner. In the dialogue, 
which at his mother's request he holds with his pupil, Will- 
iam Page, to show his progress in learning, it is hard 
to say whether the simplicity of the master or the scholar 
is the greatest. Nym, Bardolph, and Pistol, are but the 
shadows of what they were ; and Justice Shallow himself 
has little of his consequence left. But his cousin, Slender, 
makes up for the deficiency. He is a very potent piece of 
imbecility. In him the pretensions of the worthy Glou- 
cestershire family are well kept up, and immortalized. He 
and his friend Sackerson and his book of songs and his 
love of Anne Page and his having nothing to say tocher 
can never be forgotten. It is the only first-rate character 
in the play : but it is in that class. Shakespear is the only 
writer who was as great in describing weakness as strength. 
— Hazlitt, Characters of ShaJcespear's Plays 



Comments MERRY WIVES 



HONEST KNAVERY 

Great emphasis is laid throughout on honest knavery, in 
contrast to Falstaff's knavery. A wife, says the two 
women, may be merry and yet honest too ; even at the end 
of the seventeenth century there was a song which HalH- 
well quotes, in which, alluding to the moral of this play, 
the verse "wives may be merry and yet honest too," returns 
as a refrain. That the tricks pla3^ed upon FalstafF were 
not only "admirable pleasures" but ''^honest knaveries," can 
alone move the plain, true, timid, and pious pastor to take 
pleasure in them. This simple but honest knavery cele- 
brates its victory throughout over-cunning and presump- 
tion. The crafty self-loving dig the pit and fall into it 
themselves ; it is dug too strangely wide even for the sim- 
ple, because self-conceited cunning estimates too lightly its 
opponent honesty. These words may be regarded as the 
soul of the play. It is a reflection to be drawn from no 
other of Shakespeare's dramas, but only from this play of 
intrigue. All the underplot of the piece relates to this 
point and to this lesson. The cun«iing host — a boaster full 
of mockery and tricks, Avho considers himself a great poli- 
tician and Machiavellian— teases the wavering, fencing Dr. 
Caius and the pedantic Welshman Evans ; the same vexation 
befalls him as FalstafF, that the simple men, who cannot 
even speak English, combine against him, and cheat the 
crafty man about his horses. The jealous Ford gives away 
money and name, and places the honor of his house at 
stake, only to learn more certainly the supposed treachery 
of his wife; the eavesdropper hears not of his innocent 
better half, but of his own shame, and suffers torments him- 
self in return for those which he would have prepared for 
the envied unsuspecting Page and his innocent wife. In 
Page's house again other tricks are devised. Husband and 
wife conspire against each other and against the happi- 
ness of their innocent daughter, to whom the one wishes to 
give an awkward simpleton for a husband, and the other an 
old fellow ; mutually they fall into the snares laid for them, 
xxxii 



OF WINIDSOR Comments 

and Fenton brings home the bride who has committed a 
"holy offence," since marriages are settled in heaven, and 
wives are not, hke land, to be purchased by money. Alike 
in all these corresponding affairs does business seek to en- 
snare honesty — cunning, simplicity — jealousy, innocence — 
and avarice, the inoffensive nature ; and their evil design 
reverts upon themselves. Unclouded honest sense is al- 
ways superior to base passion. And this moral, which 
links together these four intrigues, will be found, if we 
consider the piece from an ethical point of view (for the 
sake of its principal character and its development), to 
I have a special reference to Falstaff's position and char- 
acter. The selfishness which we exhibited as the soul of 
Falstaff's nature appears at its highest climax when, op- 
posed to the virtue and simplicity which are its usual prey, 
in its vain security it considers the more subtle means of 
ensnaring as no longer necessary, and is thus ensnared in 
a gross trap. > An egotist like Falstaff can suffer no se- 
verer defeat than from the honesty in which he does not 
believe, and from the ignorance which he does not esteem. 
The more ridiculous side of self-love is, therefore, in this 
play subjected to a ridiculous tragic-comic fall, which, as 
regards time and the development of the plot, precedes the 
serious comic-tragic fall which meets Falstaff on the acces- 
sion of the king, when the serious and mischievous side of 
his self-love was just on the point of a dangerous triumph. 
— Gervinus, Shakespeare Commentaries. 

SHAKESPEARE'S GENIUS 

The Merry Wives of Windsor does not rank high among 
the dramas of Shakespeare ; and we cannot help feeling a 
little depressed at the unrelieved discomfitures of Falstaff. 
On this account I am inclined to regard the play as a most 
striking illustration of the power and the versatility of 
Shakespeare's genius. And this the more if, as we may 
reasonably suppose, the piece was produced in haste, and 
with some impatience both of the task and the subject, 
xxxiii 



Comments MERRY WIVES 

But if the vivid imagination, the ready wit, and all that 
appertains to the indefinable gift of genius is strikingly 
displayed, the comedy will fill us with scarcely less astonish- 
ment as we recognize the writer's mastery of material, espe- 
cially of contemporary literature, and his intimate ac- 
quaintance with contemporary life. — Luce, Handbook to 
Shakespeare's Works. 

UNIQUE CHARACTER OF THE PLAY 

The Merry Wives of Windsor stands apart with an 
unique character. It is essentially prosaic, and is indeed 
the only play of Shakspere written almost wholly in prose. 
There is no reason why we should refuse to accept the 
tradition put upon record by Dennis and by Rowe that 
The Merry Wives was written by Shakspere upon compul- 
sion, by order of Elizabeth, who in her lust for gross 
mirth, required the poet to expose his Falstaff to ridicule, 
by exhibiting him, the most delightful of egoists, in love. 
Shakspere yielded to the necessity. His Merchant of 
Venice might pass well enough with the miscellaneous gath- 
ering of upper, middle, and lower classes which crowded to 
a public theater. Now he had to cater specially for gen- 
tle-folk and for a queen. And knowing how to please 
every class of spectators, he knew how to hit off the taste 
of "the barbarian." The Merry Wives of Windsor is a 
play written expressly for the barbarian aristocrats with 
their hat]:'ed of ideas, their insensibility to beauty, their 
hard efficient manners, and their demand for impropriety. 
The good folk of London liked to see a prince or a duke, 
and they liked to see him made gracious and generous. 
These royal and noble persons at Windsor wished to see 
the interior life of country gentlemen of the middle-class, 
and to see the women of the middle-class with their excel- 
lent bourgeois morals, and rough, jocose ways. The 
comedy of hearing a French physician and a Welsh par- 
son speak broken English was appreciated by these spec- 
tators who uttered their mother-tongue with exemplary 



OF WINDSOR Comments 

accent. Shakspere did not make a grievance of his task. 
He threw himself into it with spirit, and despatched his 
work quickly, — in fourteen days, if we accept the tradi- 
tion. But FalstafF he was not prepared to recall from 
heaven or from hell. He dressed up a fat rogue, brought 
forward for the occasion from the back premises of the 
poet's imagination, in Falstaff's clothes ; he allowed persons 
and places and times to jumble themselves up as they 
pleased ; he made it impossible for the most laborious nine- 
teenth century critic to patch on The Merry Wives to 
Henry IV. But the Queen and her Court laughed as the 
buck-basket was emptied into the ditch, no more suspect- 
ing that its gross lading was not the incomparable jester 
of Eastcheap, than Ford suspected the woman with a great 
beard to be other than the veritable Dame Pratt. — Dow- 
den, ShaJcspere — His Mind and Art. 

CORRECTNESS OF PROPORTION 

This Comedy belongs to that class of Shakspeare's 
plays that is marked by correctness of proportion both 
in characters and distribution. Indeed, it would be diffi- 
cult to name a- play that is more distinguished by the 
avoidance of redundancy, by the specific quality of cor- 
rectness. The characters, which are very numerous, — 
they amount to twenty — are all wrought to an equal de- 
gree of finish, and are brought forward or subordinated 
Avith the exact relief that corresponds with their several 
functions and importance. The scenes follow in succession 
with admirably regulated length and variety of nfove- 
ment, and with such exact compensation of tone and humor 
as to move forward the busy action without delay or con- 
fusion, without a hint of tediousness or a moment of dis- 
satisfaction from the beginning to the end. These are 
qualities that best evidence the height and maturity of 
poetic powers. Still it is apparent that for such powers 
the scope and subject of the play did not afford the fullest 
opportunities of exercise. It is not for an instant to be 

XXXV 



Comments MERRY WIVES 

placed beside the more perfect poetical comedies, beside 
As You Like It, or Twelfth Night, or even beside The 
Two Gentlemen of Verona, or perhaps Love's Labor's Lost; 
works for which lavish expenditure of poetic gold vindi- 
cates rank in a higher class notwithstanding defects in cor- 
rectness and proportion. — Lloyd, Critical Essays. 

A FARCICAL COMEDY 

Apart, however, from a lack of elevation in style, and 
from a certain slenderness in the drawing of characters. 
The Merry Wives of Windsor is an admirable farcical 
comedy, breezy in its movement, full of capital. situations, 
and, at the same time, satisfying strict literary require- 
ments with a skillfully interwoven major and minor plot. 
It deals purely with bourgeois life, and critics have seen in 
this an additional evidence that it was prepared for the 
special benefit of Elizabeth and her train, who would relish 
this vigorous sketch of middle-class society, with its man- 
ners and morals so entirely at variance with those of a 
refined and dissolute court. The allusions in Act V to 
Windsor Castle, and to the chairs and insignia of the 
Knights of the Garter, seem even to suggest the scene of 
the first performance, though it is questionable whether 
Elizabethan gallants could have entirely enjoyed the spec- 
tacle of one of their own order, however degraded, suf- 
fering discomfiture at the hands of citizens' wives. Nor 
is it true to say that The Merry Wives is Shakspere's onh^ 
play of middle-class life. The Comedy of Errors, in spite 
of its classical source and names, deals with exactly the 
same social grade ; and indeed the two plays are akin in 
their unflagging bustle and wealth of humorous incident, 
which produce, besides other results, in one case the cure 
of a jealous wife, and in the other, of a jealous husband. — 
Boas, Shakspere and his Predecessors. 



OF WINDSOR Comments 



THE APPEAL OF THE PLAY 

There is real poetry in the short fairy scene of the 
last act. The poet here takes his revenge for the prose to 
which he has so long been condemned. It is full of the 
aromatic wood-scents of Windsor Park by night. What 
is altogether most valuable in The Merry Wives is its 
strong smack of the English soil. The play appeals to us, 
in spite of the drawbacks inseparable from a work hastily 
written to order, because the poet has here for once re- 
mained faithful to his own age and his own country, and 
has given us a picture of the contemporary middle-class, 
in its sturdy and honest worth, which even the atmosphere 
of farce cannot quite obscure. — Brandes, William Shake- 
speare. 

REPOSE 

The movement of the principal action is beautifully con- 
trasted with the occasional repose of the other scenes. 
The Windsor of the time of Elizabeth is presented to us, 
as the quiet country town, sleeping under the shadow of 
its neighbor the castle. Amidst its gabled houses, sepa- 
rated by pretty gardens, from which the elm and the chest- 
nut and the lime throw their branches across the un- 
paved road, we find a goodly company, with little to do 
but gossip and laugh, and make sport out of each other's 
cholers and weaknesses. We see Master Page training his 
"fallow greyhound" ; and we go with Master Ford "a-bird- 
ing." We listen to the "pribbles and prabbles" of Sir 
Hugh Evans and Justice Shallow, with a. quiet satisfaction ; 
for they talk as unartificial men ordinarily talk, without 
much wisdom, but with good temper and sincerity. We 
find ourselves in the days of ancient hospitality, when 
men could make their fellows welcome without ostenta- 
tious display, and half a dozen neighbors "could drink 
down all unkindness" over "a hot venison pasty." The 
more busy inhabitants of the town have time to tattle, 
and to laugh, and be laughed at. Mine Host of i the 



Comments MERRY WIVES 

Garter is the prince of hosts ; he is the very soul of fun 
and good temper : — he is not sohcitous whether FalstafF 
sit "at ten pounds a week" or at two ; — he readily takes 
"the withered serving man for a fresh tapster"; — his con- 
fidence in his own cleverness is delicious: — "am I politic, 
am I subtle, am I a Machiavel?" — the Germans "shall have 
my horses, but I'll make them pay. I'll sauce them." 
When he loses his horses, and his "mind is heavy," we re- 
joice that Fenton will give him "a hundred pound in gold" 
more than his loss. His contrivances to manage the fray 
between the furious French doctor, and the honest Welsh 
parson, are productive of the happiest situations. Caius 
waiting for his adversary — "de herring is no dead so as I 
vill kill him" — is capital. But Sir Hugh, with his,— 

"There will we make our peds of roses, 
And a thousand fragrant posies. 
To shallow — 

Mercy on me ! I have a great dispositions to cry," — is inim- 
itable. — Knight, Pictorial Shakespeare. 



SHAKESPEARE'S KNOWLEDGE OF LANGUAGES 

A brilliant proof of Shakespeare's knowledge of lan- 
guages — which may be compared with his humorous use of 
the Latin-English element — is the masterly way in which 
he makes Dr. Caius murder the English language in 
"The Merry Wives." Those who have ever heard a 
Frenchman "clip" the Queen's English will not hesitate to 
admit that the poet has grasped and reproduced this jargon 
with inimitable truth and in the wittiest manner. And, as 
far as is known, Shakespeare had no model in any con- 
temporary writer for this character of his. Are we to be- 
lieve that he engaged an assistant with a knowledge of 
French for the occasion? This would be a most arbitrary 
and unwarrantable assumption, and it is only a preju- 
diced mind that could come to any such conclusion. 
Shakespeare undoubtedly, in this case also, made his studies 



OF WINDSOR Comments 

from real life ; in London there were numerous representa- 
tives of the different nationalities with whom he might easily 
have come in contact. This is another point that must be 
taken into consideration if a correct idea is to be formed of 
the degree of Shakespeare's linguistic knowledge, and of 
the manner in which he acquired it. That Shakespeare 
made industrious use of the existing translations of mod- 
ern authors, in the same way as he did of works originally 
written in Latin or Greek, is a fact too well known to ad- 
mit of a doubt; but it is only a very limited argument 
against his having known the languages. It would be ab- 
surd to imagine that he despised translations of French 
and Italian romances, for the latter, more especially, had 
been a mine full of valuable material to him. — Elze, Will- 
iam Shakespeare. 



xxxix 



THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE 

Sir Johx Falstaff 
Fenton, a gentleman 
Shallow, a country justice 
Slender, cousin to Shallow 

-p J \ two gentlemen dwelling at Windsor 

William Page, a boy, son to Page 

Sir Hugh Evans, a Welsh parson 

Doctor Caitjs, a French physician 

Host of the Garter Inn 

Bardolph, -^ 

Pistol, L sharpers attending on Falstaff 

Nym, J 

Robin, page to Falstaff 

Simple, servant to Slender 

Rugby, servant to Doctor Caius 

Mistress Ford 

Mistress Page 

Anne Page, her daughter 

Mistress Quickly, servant to Doctor Caius 

Servants to Page, Ford, &c. 

Scene: Windsor, and the neighborhood. 



SYNOPSIS 

By J. Ellis Burdick 



Sir John Falstaff is attracted to Mistress Ford and Mis- 
tress Page, two women of Windsor, and, although the}^ are 
married, he determines to win their affections. Anne, 
daughter to Mistress Page, is courted by a 3'^oung provin- 
cial gentleman, Abraham Slender, by a Welsh schoolmaster 
and preacher. Sir Hugh Evans, by a French physician, 
Doctor Caius, and by Fenton, a courtier. 



Falstaff writes notes to both Mistress Ford and Mistress 
Page, and when the ladies compare them, they are found 
to be almost identical in wording. They are angry, and 
counsel together how they may avenge themselves and pun- 
ish the man's impudence. Mistress Ford makes an ap- 
pointment with him. Pistol and Nye, servants to Sir John, 
tell the husbands that their master loves the ladies. Page 
is content to let his wife settle with Falstaff, but Ford 
disguises himself and wins from the knight the secret of 
his appointment with Mistress Ford. 



On the night of the meeting, Mistress Page goes to 
Mistress Ford's house before the knight's arrival and they 
prepare a large basket of soiled linen, intending to tell 
Falstaff that the only way he can safely leave the house 
is to be carried out in this basket. Just as they are 
carrying out this ruse, the jealous Ford, accompanied by 



Synopsis MERRY WIVES 

several friends, comes in. He, too, is deceived by the basket 
of soiled clothes and FalstafF is dumped into the Thames. 
Although nearly drowned by this treatment, Sir John is 
quite ready to renew his suit upon receipt of another mes- 
sage from Mistress Ford appointing another meeting-time. 
Ford again calls upon FalstafF and is told how he es- 
caped the irate husband, and when he is again to meet the 
wife. Ford determines to watch his wife more closely than 
before. In the meantime Anne Page is favoring Fenton, 
while her mother prefers Doctor Caius, and her father has 
promised her to Slender. 



Falstaff comes the second time to Mistress Ford's house. 
Again Ford surprises them and the knight escapes dressed 
as an old witch, while the husband is searching the basket, 
believing Falstaff to be concealed therein. The ladies now 
tell their husbands all about Falstaff's letters and their 
punishment, and together the four plan a final bit of 
fun with the fat gentleman. Master and Mistress Page 
and Anne each scheme to use this third meeting for a furth- 
erance of his or her matrimonial plans. 



Falstaff comes to Windsor Park wearing a buck's head. 
Some young people, including Anne Page, are dressed as 
fairies, and they set upon him, pinch him, and burn him 
with their tapers. The four chief conspirators reveal 
themselves to him and reproach him for his attempted evil- 
doing, but in the end forgive him. Then they all go to 
Page's house, there to feast and to celebrate Anne's mar- 
riage with Fenton, for the girl had succeeded in her plans 
in spite of her father and mother. 



THE 
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR 

ACT FIRST 
Scene I 

Windsor, Before Pagers house. 

Enter Justice Shallow j, Slender ^ and Sir Hugh 
Evans. 

Shal. Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make 
a Star-chamber matter of it: if he were 
twenty Sir John FalstafFs, he shall not abuse 
Robert Shallow, esquire. 

Slen. In the county of Gloucester, justice of 
peace and 'Coram.' 

Shal. Aye, cousin Slender, and 'Custalorum.' 

Slen. Aye, and 'Rato-lorum' too; and a gentle- 
man born, master parson; who writes him- 
self 'Armigero,' in any bill, warrant, quit- 10 
tance, or obligation, 'Armigero.' 

Shal. Aye, that I do; and have done any time 
these three hundred years. 

13. "these three hundred years"; Shallow here identifies himself 
with "all his successors gone before him"; an aristocratic way of 
speaking once common in England, and not wholly laid aside yet. 
5 



Act I. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Slen. All his successors gone before him hath 
done 't ; and all his ancestors that come after 
him may: they may give the dozen white 
luces in their coat. 

Shal. It is an old coat. 

Evans, The dozen white louses do become an 
old coat well ; it agrees well, passant ; it is a 20 
familiar beast to man, and signifies love. 

Shal. The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is 
an old coat. 

Slen. I may quarter, coz. 

Shal. You may, by marrying. 

Evans. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it. 

Shal. Not a whit. 

Evans. Yes, py'r lady; if he has a quarter of 
your coat, there is but three skirts for your- 
self, in my simple conjectures: but that is 30 
all one. If Sir John FalstaiF have com- 
mitted disparagements unto you, I am of 
the church, and will be glad to do my benev- 

Washington AUston was once the guest of an English nobleman 
who, though Shallow in nothing else, said he came over with William 
the Conqueror. We are indebted to Mr. Verplanck for this anecdote, 
and also for the information that Shallow's mode of speech, though 
common, is characteristic of him. — H. N. H. 

22. "The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an old coat." No 
satisfactory explanation of this passage has as j^et been offered; 
various suggestions have been made, e. g. "salt-fish":^ the halce 
borne by the stockfishmongers ; "same" for "salt" ; " 'tis ott fish" 
(assigned to Evans), &c. May not, however, the whole point of 
the matter lie in Shallow's use of "salt" in the sense of "saltant," 
the heraldic term, used especially for vermin? If so, "salt fish"^ 
"the leaping louse," with a quibble on "salt" as opposed to "fresh 
fish." There is further allusion to the proverbial predilection of 
vermin for "old coats," used quibblingly in the sense of "coat-of- 
arms." — I. G. 

6 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. i. 

olence to make atonements and comprem- 
ises between you. 

Shal. The council shall hear it ; it is a riot. 

Evans. It is not meet the council hear a riot; 
there is no fear of Got in a riot : the council, 
look you, shall desire to hear the fear of 
Got, and not to hear a riot ; take your viza- 40 
ments in that. 

Shal. Ha! o' my life, if I were young again, 
the sword should end it. 

Evans. It is petter that friends is the sword, 
and end it: and there is also another device 
in my prain, which peradventure prings goot 
discretions with it: — there is Anne Page, 
which is daughter to Master Thomas Page, 
which is pretty virginity. 

Slen. Mistress Anne Page? She has brown 50 
hair, and speaks small like a woman. 

Evans. It is that f ery person for all the orld, as 
just as you will desire; and seven hundred 
pounds of moneys, and gold and silver, is 
her grandsire upon his death's-bed (Got de- 
liver to a joyful resurrections!) give, when 
she is able to overtake seventeen years old: 
it were a goot motion if we leave our prib- 
bles and prabbles, and desire a marriage be- 

51. To "speak small" means much the same as what old Lear so 
touchingly says over his dying Cordelia: "Her voice was ever soft, 
gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman." So also in Chaucer: 

"The company answered all. 
With voice sweet entuned, and so small, 
That methought it the sweetest melody." — H. N. H. 

3e 7 



Act i. Sc. {. MERRY WlVIiS 

tween Master Abraham and Mistress Anne 60 
Page. 

Slen. Did her grandsire leave her seven hun- 
dred pound? 

Evans. Aye, and her father is make her a 
petter penny. 

Slen. I know the young gentlewoman; she has 
good gifts. 

Evans. Seven hundred pounds and possibilities 
is goot gifts. 

Shal. Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is 70 
FalstafF there? 

Evans. Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a 
liar as I do despise one that is false, or as I 
despise one that is not true. The knight, 
Sir John, is there; and, I beseech you, be 
ruled by your well-willers. I will peat the 
door for Master Page. [Knocks'] What, 
hoa ! Got pless your house here ! 

Page. [Within] Who's there? 

Enter Page. 

Evans. Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, 
and Justice Shallow; and here young 
Master Slender, that peradventures shall tell 
you another tale, if matters grow to your 
likings. 

Page. I am glad to see your worships well. I 
thank you for my venison, Master Shallow. 

Shal. Master Page, I am glad to see you : much 
good do it your good heart! I wished your 
venison better; it was ill killed. How doth 
8 



80 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. i. 

good Mistress Page? — and I thank you al- 90 

ways with my heart, la! with my heart. 
Page. Sir, I thank you. 
Shal. Sir, I thank you ; by yea and no, I do. 
Page. I am glad to see you, good Master 

Slender. 
Slen. How does your fallow greyhound, sir? 

I heard say he was outrun on Cotsall. 
Page. It could not be judged, sir. 
Slen. You '11 not confess, you '11 not confess. 
Shal. That he will not. 'Tis your fault, 'tis 100 

your fault; 'tis a good dog. 
Page. A cur, sir. 
Shal. Sir, he 's a good dog, and a fair dog : can 

there be more said? he is good and fair. Is 

Sir John Falstaff here? 
Page. Sir, he is within ; and I would I could do 

a good office between you. 
Evans. It is spoke as a Christians ought to 

speak. 
Shal. He hath wronged me. Master Page. HO 

Page. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it. 
Shal. If it be confessed, it is not redressed: is 

not that so, Master Page? He hath 

wronged me; indeed he hath; at a word, he 

hath, believe me: Robert Shallow, esquire, 

saith, he is wronged. 

97. "Outrun on Cotsall," i. e. on the Cotswold hills (in Gloucester- 
shire) ; probably an allusion to the famous Cotswold Games, which 
were revived at the beginning of the seventeenth century, though 
evidently instituted earlier; the ailusion does not occur in the first 
pnd second Quartos. — I, G. 

114. "at a word"; in a word. — C. H. H. 

9 



Act I. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Page. Here comes Sir John. 

Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym^ 
and Pistol. 

Fal. Now, Master Shallow, you '11 complain of 

me to the king. 
Shal. Knight, you have beaten my men, killed 120 

my deer, and broke open my lodge. 
Fal. But not kissed your keeper's daughter? 
Shal. Tut, a pin ! this shall be answered. 
Fal. I will answer it straight; I have done all 

this. That is now answered. 
Shal. The council shall know this. 
Fal. 'Twere better for you if it were known in 

counsel : you '11 be laughed at. 
Evans. Pauca verba. Sir John ; goot worts. 
Fal. Good worts ! good cabbage. Slender, 1 130 

broke your head: what matter have you 

against me? 
Sle7i. Marry, sir, I have matter in my head 

against you ; and against your cony-catching 

rascals, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol. 
Bard. You Banbury cheese! 
Slen. Aye, it is no matter. 
Pist. How now, Mephostophilus ! 
Slen. Aye, it is no matter. 

121. "lodge"; the keeper's lodge.— C. H. H. 

123. "kissed the keeper's daughter" ; Scott in Kenilworth suggests 
that this was part of the > charge made against the Poet by Sir 
Thomas Lucy. Council and counsel, just below, are probably a 
quibble, the one meaning the Star-Chamber, the other being used 
in the sense of secresy. Sir Thomas seems to have gained nothing 
by his proceedings against the Poet but the honor of being "laughed 
at."— H. N. H. 

10 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. i. 

Nym. Slice, I say ! pauca, pauca : slice ! that 's 140 

my humor. 
Slen. Where 's Simple, my man ? Can you tell. 



cousin 



Evans. Peace, I pray you. Now let us under- 
stand. There is three umpires in this mat- 
ter, as I understand; that is. Master Page, 
fidelicet Master Page; and there is myself, 
fidelicet myself; and the three party is, 
lastly and finally, mine host of the Garter. 

Page. We three, to hear it and end it between 150 
them. 

Evans. Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in 
my note-book! and we will afterwards ork 
upon the cause with as great discreetly as 
we can. 

Fal. Pistol! 

Pist. He hears with ears. 

Evans. The tevil and his tam! what phrase is 
this, 'He hears with ear' ? why, it is affecta- 
tions. 160 

Fal. Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's 
purse ? 

Slen. Aye, by these gloves, did he, or I would 
I might never come in mine own great 
chamber again else, of seven groats in mill- 
sixpences, and two Edward shovel-boards, 
that cost me two shilling and two pence 
a-piece of Yead Miller, by these gloves. 

Fal. Is this true. Pistol? 

Evans. No ; it is false, if it is a pick-purse. 170 



11 



Act I. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Pist. Ha, thou mountain- f oreigner ! Sir John 
and master mine, 
1 combat challenge of this latten bilbo. 
Word of denial in thy labras here! 
Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest! 

Slen. By these gloves, then, 'twas he. 

Nym. Be avised, sir, and pass good humors: I 
will say 'marry trap' with you, if you run 
the nuthook's humor on me ; that is the very 
note of it. 180 

Slen. By this hat, then, he in the red face had 
it ; for though I cannot remember what I did 
when you made me drunk, yet I am not alto- 
gether an ass. 

Fal. What say you, Scarlet and John? 

Bard. Why, sir, for my part, I say the gentle- 
man had drunk himself out of his five sen- 
tences. 

Evans. It is his five senses : fie, what the ignor- 
ance is ! 190 

Bard. And being fap, sir, was, as they say, 
cashiered; and so conclusions passed the 
careires. 

Slen. Aye, you spake in Latin then too ; but 'tis 
no matter : I '11 ne'er be drunk whilst I live 
again, but in honest, civil, godly company, 
for this trick : if I be drunk I '11 be drunk 
with those that have the fear of God, and 
not with drunken knaves. 

185. "Scarlet and John"; Robin Hood's boon companion; an allu- 
sion to Bardolph's red face.— I. G. 



12 



OF WINDSOR Act. LSc. i, 

Evans. So Got udge me, that is a virtuous 201J 
mind. 

Fal. You hear all these matters denied, gentle- 
men; you hear it. 

Enter Anne Page, with wine; Mistress Ford and 
Mistress Page, following. 

Page. Nay, daughter, carry the wine in ; we '11 
drink within. lEcvit Anne Page.. 

Slen. O heaven ! this is Mistress Anne Page. 

Page. How now, Mistress Ford! 

Fal. Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very 
well met: by your leave, good mistress. 

\_Kisses her. 

Page. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. 210 
Come, we have a hot venison pasty to din- 
ner : come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink 
down all unkindness. 

[Exeunt all except Shal., Slen., and Evans. 

Slen. I had rather than forty shillings I had 
my Book of Songs and Sonnets here. 

Enter Simple. 

How now, Simple! where have you been? I 
must wait on myself, must I? You have 
not the Book of Riddles about you, have 
you? 
Sim. Book of Riddles ! why, did you not lend it 220 
to Alice Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last, 
a fortnight afore Michaelmas? 

222. "a fortnight afore Michaelmas." The blunder is doubtless 
intended. Theobald unnecessarily proposed Martlemas. — C. H. H. 
13 



Act I. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Shal. Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. 
A word with you, coz ! marry, this, coz ; there 
is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, 
made afar off by Sir Hugh here. Do you 
understand me? 

Slen. Aye, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if 
it be so, I shall do that that is reason. 

Shal. Nay, but understand me. 230 

Slen. So I do, sir. 

Evans. Give ear to his motions. Master 
Slender : I will description the matter to you, 
if you be capacity of it. 

Slen. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow 
says: I pray you, pardon me; he 's a justice 
of peace in his country, simple though I 
stand here. 

Evans. But that is not the question: the ques- 
tion is concerning your marriage. 240 

Shal. Aye, there 's the point, sir. 

Evans. Marry, is it; the very point of it; to 
Mistress Anne Page. 

Slen. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon 
any reasonable demands. 

Evans. But can you affection the 'oman? Let 
us command to know that of your mouth 
or of your lips ; for divers philosophers hold 
that the lips is parcel of the mouth. There- 
fore, precisely, can you carry your good will 250 
to the maid? 

Shal. Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love 
her? 



14 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. i. 

Slen. I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one 
that would do reason. 

Evans. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies! you 
must speak possitable, if you can carry her 
your desires towards her. 

Shal. That you must. Will you, upon good 
dowry, marry her? 260 

Slen. I will do a greater thing than that, upon 
your request, cousin, in any reason. 

Shal. Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz : 
what I do is to pleasure you, coz. Can you 
love the maid? 

Slen. I will marry her, sir, at your request : but 
if there be no great love in the beginning, 
yet heaven may decrease it upon better ac- 
quaintance, when we are married and have 
more occasion to know one another ; I hope, 270 
upon familiarity will grow more contempt: 
but if you say 'Marry her,' I will marry her; 
that I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely. 

Evans. It is a fery discretion answer; save the 
fall is in the ort 'dissolutely': the ort is, ac- 
cording to our meaning, 'resolutely': his 
meaning is good. 

Shal. Aye, I think my cousin meant well. 

Slen. Aye, or else I would I might be hanged, 
la! 280 

Shal. Here comes fair Mistress Anne. 

Re-enter Anne Page. 

Would I were young for your sake. Mistress 
Anne! 

15 



Act I. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Anne. The dinner is on the table; my father 
desires your worships' company. 

Shal. I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne. 

Evans. Od's plessed will! I will not be absence 
at the grace. [Exeunt Shallow and Evans. 

Anne. Will 't please your worship to come in, 
sir? 290 

Slen. No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily ; I am 
very well. 

Anne. The dinner attends you, sir. 

Slen. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth. 
Go, sirrah, for all you are my man, go wait 
upon my cousin Shallow. [Exit Simple.'] 
A justice of peace sometime may be behold- 
ing to his friend for a man. I keep but 
three men and a boy yet, till my mother be 
dead : but what though? yet I live like a poor ^^00 
gentleman born. 

Anne. I may not go in without your worship: 
they will not sit till you come. 

Slen. V faith, I '11 eat nothing; I thank you as 
much as though I did. 

Anne. I pray you, sir, walk in. 

Slen. I had rather walk here, I thank you. I 
bruised my shin th' other day with playing 
at sword and dagger with a master of fence ; 
three veneys for a dish of stewed prunes; 310 
and, by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of 
hot meat since. Why do your dogs bark so? 
be there bears i' the town? 

QQ5. "go wait upon"; it was formerly the custom in England for 
persons to be attended at dinner hy their own servants wherever 
they dined.— H. N. H. 

16 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. i, 

Anne. I think there are, sir; I heard them 
talked of. 

Slen. I love the sport well; but I shall as soon 
quarrel at it as any man in England. You 
are afraid, if you see the bear loose, are you 
not? 

Anne. Aye, indeed, sir. 320 

Slen. That 's meat and drink to me, now. I 
have seen Sackerson loose twenty times, and 
have taken him by the chain ; but, I warrant 
you, the women have so cried and shrieked 
at it, that it passed : but women, indeed, can- 
not abide 'em; they are very ill-favored 
rough things. 

Re-enter Page. 

Page. Come, gentle Master Slender, come; we 
stay for you. 

Slen. I '11 eat nothing, I thank you, sir. 330 

Page. By cock and pie, you shall not choose, 
sir! come, come. 

Slen. Nay, pray you, lead the way. 

Page. Come on, sir. 

Slen. Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first. 

Anne. Not I, sir; pray you, keep on. 

Slen. Truly, I will not go first; truly, la! I will 
not do you that wrong. 

Anne. I pray you, sir. 

Slen. I '11 rather be unmannerly than trouble- 
some. You do yourself wrong, indeed, la! 

[Exeunt. 

XXI— 2 17 



Act I. Sc. ii-iii. MERRY WIVES 



Scene II 

The same. 
Enter Si?' Hugh Evans arid Simple. 

Evans. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor 
Caius' house which is the way: and there 
dwells one Mistress Quickly, which is in the 
manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his 
cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his 
wringer. 

Sim. Well, sir. 

Evans. Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this 
letter; for it is a 'oman that altogether's 
acquaintance with Mistress Anne Page: and 10 
the letter is, to desire and require her to so- 
licit your master's desires to Mistress Anne 
Page. I pray you, be gone : I will make an 
end of my dinner ; there 's pippins and cheese 
to come. [Exeunt. 

Scene III 

^A room in the Garter Inn. 

Enter Falstaff, Host, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, and 
Robin. 

Fal. Mine host of the Garter! 
Host. What says my bully -rook? speak 
scholarly and wisely. 

18 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. iii. 

Fat, Truly, mine host, I must turn away some 
of my followers. 

Host. Discard, bully Hercules; cashier: let 
them wag; trot, trot. 

Fal. I sit at ten pounds a week. 

Host. Thou 'rt emperor, Csesar, Keisar, and 
Pheezar. I will entertain Bardolph; he 10 
shall draw, he shall tap: said I well, bully 
Hector? 

Fal. Do so, good mine host. 

Host. I have spoke; let him follow. [To 
Bard.l Let me see thee froth and lime: I am 
at a word ; follow. lEccit. 

Fal. Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a 
good trade: an old cloak makes a new 
jerkin; a withered serving-man a fresh tap- 
ster. Go; adieu. 20 

Bard. It is a life that I have desired: I will 
thrive. 

Pist. O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the 
spigot wield? [EoJit Bardolph. 

Nym. He was gotten in drink : is not the humor 
conceited? 

Fal. I am glad I am so acquit of this tinder- 
box: his thefts were too open; his filching 
was like an unskillful singer; he kept not 
time. 30 

9. "Keisar"; an old form of Caesar, the general word for an em- 
peror; Kings and Keisars being a common phrase. The meaning 
of Pheezar is uncertain. Malone derives it from pheeze, to whip, or 
to beat, and so used in the Induction to the Taming of The Shrew. 
— H. N. H. 

26. "conceited"; ingenious. — C. H. H. 

19 



Act I. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Nym. The good humor is to steal at a minute's 
rest. 

Pist. 'Convey,' the wise it call. 'Steal!' foh! a 
fico for the phrase! 

Fal. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels. 

Pist. Why, then, let kibes ensue. 

Fcill. There is no remedy ; I must cony-catch ; I 
must shift. 

Pist. Young ravens must have food. 

Fal. Which of you know Ford of this town? 40 

Pist. I ken the wight: he is of substance good. 

Fal. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am 
about. 

Pist. Two yards, and more. 

Fal. No quips now, Pistol ! Indeed, I am in the 
waist two yards about ; but I am now about 
no waste; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do 
mean to make love to Ford's wife: I spy 
entertainment in her; she discourses, she 
carves, she gives the leer of invitation: I 50 
can construe the action of her familiar style ; 
and the hardest voice of her behavior, to be 

30. "A minute's rest"; "a minim's rest" is the ingenious suggestion 
of Bennet Langton; cp. Borneo and Juliet, II. iv. 24, "rests me his 
minim rest." — I. G. 

34. "a fico for the phrase" ; fico is a Pistolism for fig. — H. N. H. 

49. "Carves"; probably used here in the sense of "to show favor 
by expressive gestures"; cp. "A carver: chironomus . . . one that 
useth apish motions with his hands." — Littleton's Latin-English Dic- 
tionary (1675).— I. G. 

It seems to have been a mark of kindness when a lady carved 
to a gentleman. So, in Vittoria Corombona: "Your husband is 
wondrous discontented. Vit. I did nothing to displease him; I 
carved to him at supper time." — H. N. H. 

53. "the hardest voice"; word, expression. — C. H. H. 

20 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. iii. 

Englished rightly, is, 'I am Sir John Fal- 
staff's.' 

Pist. He hath studied her will, and translated 
her will, out of honesty into English. 

Nym. The anchor is deep: will that humor 
pass? 

Fal. Now, the report goes she has all the rule 
of her husband's purse; he hath a legion of 60 
angels. 

Pist. As many devils entertain; and 'To her, 
boy,' say I. 

Nym. The humor rises; it is good: humor me 
the angels. 

Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: and 
here another to Page's wife, who even now 
gave me good eyes too, examined my parts 
with most judicious oeillades; sometimes the 
beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes '^0 
my portly belly. 

Pist. Then did the sun on dunghill shine. 

Nym. I thank thee for that humor. 

Fal. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with 
such a greedy intention, that the appetite 
of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a 
burning-glass ! Here 's another letter to her : 
she bears the purse too; she is a region in 
Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be 

53. "to he Englished rightly"; if translated into Englisli.^ — C. H. H. 

57. "The anchor is deep"; i. e. the plot is deep laid. — C. H. H. 

78. "Region of Guiana." Sir Walter Raleigh returned from his 
expedition to South America in 1596, and published his book on 
"The Discovery of the large, rich, and beautiful Empire of Guiana" 
in the same year. — I. G. 

21 



Act I. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

cheaters to them both, and they shall be ex- 80 
chequers to me; they shall be my East and 
West Indies, and I will trade to them both. 
Go bear thou this letter to Mistress Page; 
and thou this to Mistress Ford: we will 
thrive, lads, we will thrive. 

Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become 

And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take 
all! 

Nym. I will run no base humor : here, take the 
humor-letter: I will keep the havior of rep- 
utation. 90 

Fal. [To Rohin\ Hold, sirrah, bear you these 
letters tightly; 
Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. 
Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, 

go; 

Trudge, plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter, 

pack! 
FalstafF will learn the humor of the age, 
French thrift, you rogues; myself and 

skirted page. [Exeunt Falstaff and Robin. 
Pist. Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and 

fullam holds, 
And high and low beguiles the rich and poor : 
Tester I '11 have in pouch when thou shalt lack. 
Base Phrygian Turk ! 100 

Nym. 1 have operations which be humors of 
revenge. 

86. "Sir Pandarus of Troy"; the go-between in the amours of 
Troilus and Cressida, famous from Chaucer's poem. Pistol asks 
whether he, a soldier, shall condescend to play this part. — C. H. H. 

22 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. iv. 

Pist. Wilt thou revenge? 

Nym. By welkin and her star! 

Pist. With wit or steel? 

Nym. With both the humors, I : 

I will discuss the humor of this love to Page, 

Pist. And I to Ford shall eke unfold 
How FalstaflF, varlet vile, 
^ His dove will prove, his gold will hold, 110 

And his soft couch defile. 

Nym. My humor shall not cool: I will incense 
Page to deal with poison ; I will possess him 
with yellowness, for the revolt of mine is 
dangerous: that is my true humor. 

Pist. T^ou art the Mars of malecontents. I 
second thee ; troop on. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV 

A room in Doctor Caius's house. 

Enter Mistress Quickly, Simple, and Rugby. 

Quick. What, John Rugby! I pray thee, go to 
the casement, and see if you can see my 
master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. If 
he do, i' faith, and find anybody in the 

105. "By ivelkin and her star." This is no doubt the correct read- 
ing of the line, and there is no need to read stars, as has been sug- 
gested; "star" is obviously used here for "the sun"; the Quartos 
read "fairies." — I. G. 

115. "the revolt of mine"; evidently referring to his revolt from 
FalstaflF, which is now his "true humor." — H. N. H. 
23 



Act I. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

house, here will be an old abusing of God's 
patience and the king's English. 

Rug. I '11 go watch. 

Quick. Go ; and we '11 have a posset for 't soon 
at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea- 
coal fire. [Eocit Rugby.'] An honest, will- 10 
ing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come 
in house withal ; and, I warrant you, no tell- 
tale nor no breed-bate: his worst fault is, 
that he is given to prayer; he is something 
peevish that way: but nobody but has his 
fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple, you 
say your name is? 

Sim. Aye, for fault of a better. ^ 

Quick. And Master Slender 's j^our master? 

Sim. Aye, forsooth. 20 

Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, 
like a glover's paring-knife? 

Sim. No, forsooth : he hath but a little wee face, 
with a little yellow beard, — a Cain-colored 
beard. 

Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not? 

Sim. Aye, forsooth: but he is as tall a man of 
his hands as any is between this and his head ; 
he hath fought with a warrener. 

Quick. How say you? — O, I should remember 30 
him : does he not hold up his head, as it were, 
and strut in his gait? 

Sim. Yes, indeed, does he. 

5. "old"; extraordinary. — C. H. H. 

8. "posset"; a hot drink taken before going to bed. — C. H, H. 

29, "warrener"; the keeper of a warren. — H. N. H, 

24 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. iv. 

Quick. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse 
fortune! Tell Master Parson Evans I will 
do what I can for your master : Anne is a 
good girl, and I wish — 

Re-enter Rugby. 

Rug: Out, alas! here comes my master. 

Quick. We shall all be shent. Run in here, 
good young man; go into this closet: he will 40 
not stay long. [Shuts Simple in the closet.} 
What, John Rugby! John! what, John, I 
say! Go, John, go inquire for my master; I 
doubt he be not well, that he comes not 
home. 

\_Singing} And down, down, adown-a, &c. 

Enter Doctor Caius. 

Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys. 
Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un 
boitier vert, — a box, a green-a box : do intend 
vat I speak ? a green-a box. 50 

Quick. Aye, forsooth ; I '11 fetch it you. 
[Aside} I am glad he went not in himself: 
if he had found the young man, he would 
have been horn-mad. 

46. "Doctor Caius"; it has been thought strange that Shakespeare 
should take the name of Caius for his Frenchman, as an eminent 
physician of that name, founder of Caius College, Oxford, flourished 
in Elizabeth's reign. But Shakespeare was little acquainted with 
literary history, and without doubt, from this unusual name, sup- 
posed him to have been some foreign quack. The character might 
however be drawn from the life, for in Jack Dover's Quest of 
Enquirie, 1604, a story called The Foole of Windsor turns upon a 
simple outlandish Doctor of Physic. — H. N. H. 

25 



Act L Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. 

Je m'en vais a la cour, — la grande affaire. 
Quick. Is it this, sir? 
Caius. Oui; mette le au mon pocket: depeche, 

quickly. Vere is dat knave Rugby? 
Quick. What, John Rugby! John! 60 

Rug. Here, sir! 
Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack 

Rugby. Come, take-a your rapier, and 

come after my heel to the court. 
Rug. ^Tis ready, sir, here in the porch. 
Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long. Od 's me! 

Qu'ai- j 'oublie ! dere is some simples in my 

closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall 

leave behind. 
Quick, Aye me, he '11 find the young man there, 

and be mad ! 
Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet? 

Villain! larron! [Pulling Simple out.'] 

Rugby, my rapier! 
Quick. Good master, be content. 
Caius. Wherefore shall I be content-a? 
Quick. The young man is an honest man. 
Caius. What shall de honest man do in my 

closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come 

in my closet. 
Quick. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic. 

Hear the truth of it : he came of an errand to 

me from Parson Hugh. 
Caius. Veil. 

Siin. Aye, forsooth ; to desire her to — - 
Quick. Peace, I pray you. 

26 



70 



80 



OF WINDSOR Act I. Sc. iv. 

Caius. Peace-a your tongue. Speak-a your 
tale. 

Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your 
maid, to speak a good word to Mistress 90 
Anne Page for my master in the way of 
marriage. 

Quick. This is all, indeed, la ! but I '11 ne'er put 
my finger in the fire, and need not. 

Caius. Sir Hugh send-a you? Kugby, bailie 
me some paper. Tarry you a little-a while. 

[Writes, 

Quick. [Aside to Simple^ I am glad he is so 
quiet : if he had been throughly moved, you 
should have heard him so loud and so melan- 
choly. But notwithstanding, man, I '11 do 100 
you your mastej what good I can: and the 
very yea and the no is, the French doctor, 
my master, — I may call him my master, look 
you, for I keep his house ; and I wash, wring, 
brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, 
make the beds, and do all myself, — 

Sim. [Aside to Quicklyl 'Tis a great charge 
to come under one body's hand. 

Quick. [Aside to Simple] Are you avised o' 
that? you shall find it a great charge: and to HO 
be up early and down late; — but notwith- 
standing, — to tell you in your ear; I would 
have no words of it, — my master himself is 
in love with Mistress Anne Page: but not- 
withstanding that, I know Anne's mind,— 
that 's neither here nor there. 

111. "down"; in bed.— C. H. H. 

27 



Act I. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Caius. You jack'nape, give-a this letter to Sir 
Hugh; by gar, it is a shallenge: I will cut 
his troat in de park; and I will teach a 
scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or 120 
make. You may be gone ; it is not good you 
tarry here. — By gar, I will cut all his two 
stones; by gar, he shall not have a stone to 
throw at his dog. [EojU Simple, 

Quick. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. 

Caius. It is no matter-a ver dat: — do not you 
tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for 
myself? — By gar, I vill kill de Jack priest; 
and I have appointed mine host of de 
Jarteer to measure our weapon. — By gar, 130 
I will myself have Anne Page. 

Quick. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be 
well. We must give folks leave to prate: 
what, the good-jer! 

Caius. Rugby, come to the court with me. By 
gar, if I have not Anne Page, I shall turn 
your head out of my door. Follow my 
heels, Rugby. [Exeunt Caius and Rugby. 

Quick. You shall have An fool's-head of your 
own. No, I know Anne's mind for that: 140 
never a woman in Windsor knows more of 
Anne's mind than I do; nor can do more 
than I do with her, I thank heaven. 

Fent. [Within] Who 's within there? ho! 

Quick. Who's there, I trow? Come near the 
house, I pray you. 

Enter Fenton. 



t 



OF WINDSOR Act L Sc. iv. 

Fent. How now, good woman! how dost thou? 

Quick. The better that it pleases your good 
worship to ask. 

Fent. What news ? how does pretty Mistress 150 
Anne? 

Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and 
honest, and gentle; and one that is your 
friend, I can tell you that by the way; I 
praise heaven for it. 

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'st thou? 
Shall I not lose my suit? 

Quick. Troth, sir, all is in his hands above : but 
notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I '11 be 
sworn on a book, she loves you. Have not 160 
your worship a wart above your eye ? 

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; what of that? 

Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale : — good faith, 
it is such another Nan; but, I detest, an 
honest maid as ever broke bread : — we had an 
hour's talk of that wart. — I shall never laugh 
but in that maid's company! — But, indeed, 
she is given too much to allicholy and mus- 
ing : but for you — well, go to. 

Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, 170 
there 's money for thee ; let me have thy 
voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before 
me, commend me. 

Quick. Will I ? i' faith, that we will ; and I will 
tell your worship more of the wart the next 
time we have confidence; and of other 
wooers. 

Fent. Well, farewell ; I am in great haste now, 
29 



Act I. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Quick. Farewell to your worship. lEaiit Fen- 
ton.^ Truly, an honest gentleman: but 180 
Anne loves him not; for I know Anne's 
mind as well as another does. — Out upon 't! 
what have I forgot? lEccit. 






SO 



OF WINDSOR Act IL Sc. i. 



ACT SECOND 

Scene I 

Before Page's house. 

Enter Mistress Page, with a letter. 

Mrs. Page. What, have I scaped love-letters 
in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I 
now a subject for them? Let me see. [Reads. 

'Ask me no reason why I love you; for 
though Love use Reason for his physician, 
he admits him not for his counselor. You 
are not young, no more am I; go to, 
then, there 's sympathy : you are merry, so 
am I ; ha, ha ! then there 's more sympathy : 
you love sack, and so do I ; would you desire 10 
better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mis- 
tress Page, — at the least, if the love of sol- 
dier can suffice, — that I love thee. I will 
not say, pity me, — 'tis not a soldier-like 
phrase ; but I say, love me. By me, 

Thine own true knight. 
By day or night, 

5. "Though Love use Reason for his phijsician." The Folios read 
"precisian"; the emendation adopted in the text was first suggested 
by Johnson, and has been generally accepted; cp. Sonnet cxlvi;.; 
"My reason the physician to my love." — I. G-, 
31 



Act II So. i. MERRY WIVES 

Or any kind of light. 

With all his might 19 

For thee to fight. — John Falstaff.' 

What a Herod of Jewry is this ! O wicked, 
wicked world! One that is well-nigh worn 
to pieces with age to show himself a young 
gallant! What an unweighed behavior 
hath this Flemish drunkard picked — with 
the devil's name! — out of my conversation, 
that he dares in this manner assay me? 
Why, he hath not been thrice in my com.- 
pany ! What should I say to him? I was then 
frugal of my mirth: Heaven forgive me! 30 
Why, I '11 exhibit a bill in the parliament 
for the putting down of men. How shall 
I be revenged on him? for revenged I will 
be, as sure as his guts are made of pud- 
dings. 

. Enter Mistress Ford. 

Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page ! trust me, I was go- 
ing to your house. 

Mrs. Page. And, trust me, I was coming to 
you. You look very ill. 

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I '11 ne'er believe that ; I have ^0 
to show to the contrary. 

Mrs. Page. Faith, but you do, in my mind. 

Mrs. Ford. Well, I do, then; yet, I say, I 
could show you to the contrary. O Mis- 
tress Page, give me some counsel ! 

31. " exhibit" ; hrmg forward. — C. H. H, 



I 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. i. 

Mrs. Page. What 's the matter, woman? 

Mrs. Ford. O woman, if it were not for one 
trifling respect, I could come to such honor ! 

Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman! take the 
honor. What is it? — dispense with trifles; 50 
— what is it? 

Mrs. Ford. If I would but go to hell for an 
eternal moment or so, I could be knighted. 

Mrs. Page. What ? thou liest ! Sir Alice Ford ! 
These knights will hack; and so thou 
shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry. 

Mrs. Ford. We burn daylight: — ^here, read, 
read; perceive how I might be knighted. 
I shall think the worse of fat men, as 
long as I have an eye to make difl'erence 60 
of men's liking : and yet he would not swear ; 
praised women's modesty; and gave such 
orderly and well-behaved reproof to all un- 
comeliness, that I would have sworn his dis- 
position would have gone to the truth of his 
words ; but they do no more adhere and keep 
place together than the Hundredth Psalm 
to the tune of 'Green Sleeves.' What tem- 
pest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many 
tuns of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor? 70 
How shall I be revenged on him? I think 
the best way were to entertain him with 
hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted 

48. "respect"; consideration.— C. H. H. 

57. "We burn daylight"; a proverb: we burn lamps by day-light; 
that is, we waste time. — H. N. H. 

60. "to make diference of men's liking"; to distinguish the bodily 
characteristics of men. — C. H. H. 
XXI— 3 33 



Act II. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

him in his own grease. Did you ever hear 
the like? 

Mrs. Page. Letter for letter, but that the name 
of Page and Ford differs! To thy great 
comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, 
here 's the twin-brother of thy letter : but 
let thine inherit first; :.or, I protest, mine 80 
never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand 
of these letters, writ with blank space for 
different names, — sure, more, — and these 
are of the second edition : he will print them, 
out of doubt ; for he cares not what he puts, 
into the press, when he would put us two. 
I had rather be a giantess, and lie under 
Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty 
lascivious turtles ere one chaste man. 

Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very same; the 90 
very hand, the very words. What doth he 
think of us? 

Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not: it makes me al- 
most ready to wrangle with mine own hon- 
esty. I '11 entertain myself like one that 
I am not acquainted withal; for, sure, un- 
less he know some strain in me, that I know 
not myself, he would never have boarded me 
in this fury. 

Mrs. Ford. 'Boarding,' call you it? I'll be 100 
sure to keep him above deck. 

Mrs. Page. So will I: if he come under my 
hatches, I '11 never to sea again. Let 's be 
revenged on him : let 's appoint him a meet- 
ing; give him a show of comfort in his suit, 

34 



i 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. i. 

and lead him on with a fine-baited delay, 
till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of 
the Garter. 

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any vil- 
lainy against him, that may not sully the HO 
chariness of our honesty. O, that my hus- 
band saw, this letter! it would give eternal 
food to his jealousy. 

Mrs. Page. Why, look where he comes; and 
my good man too: he 's as far from jealousy 
as I am from giving him cause; and that, I 
hope, is an unmeasurable distance. 

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman. 

Mrs. Page. Let 's consult together against this 
greasy knight. Come hither. [They retire. 120 

Enter Fordj, with Pistol, and Page, with Nym. 

Ford. Well, I hope it be not so. 

Pist. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs : 

Sir John affects thy wife. 
Ford. Why, sir, my wife is not young. 
Pist. He woos both high and low, both rich and 
poor. 

Both young and old, one with another, Ford ; 

He loves the gallimaufry : Ford, perpend. 
Ford. Love my wife ! 
Pist, With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou. 

Like Sir Act^eon he, with Ringwood at thy 
heels: 130 

127. "perpend"; i. e. consider. — H. N. H. 

129. The "liver" was anciently supposed to be the seat of the 
amorous passions. — H. N. H. 

130. "Like Sir Actceon he," etc.; make him like Actaeon, who (in 
the shape of a stag) was hunted to death by hounds.— C. H. H. 

35 



Act 11. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

O, odious is the name! 

Ford. What name, sir? 

Pist. The horn, I say. Farewell. 

Take heed; have open eye; for thieves do foot 

by night: 
Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds 

do sing. 
Away, Sir Corporal Nym ! — 
Believe it. Page; he speaks sense. [Exit. 

Ford. \_Aside'\ I will be patient; I will find out 
this. 

Nym. [To Page] And this is true; I like not 140 
the humor of lying. He hath wronged me 
in some humors: I should have borne the 
humored letter to her; but I have a sword, 
and it shall bite upon my necessity. He loves 
your wife ; there 's the short and the long. 
My name is Corporal Nym; I speak, and I 
avouch : 'tis true : my name is Nym, and Fal- 
stafF loves your wife. Adieu. I love not 
the humor of bread and cheese ; and there 's 
the humor of it. Adieu. [Exit. 150 

Page. 'The humor of it,' quoth 'a ! here 's a 
fellow frights English out of his wits. 

Ford. I will seek out FalstafF. 

Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting 
rogue. 

Ford. If I do find it:— well. 

Page. I will not believe such a Catalan, though 
the priest o' the town commended him for a 
true man. 

Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: — ^well. 160 
36 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. i. 

Page. How now, Meg! 

\_Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forward. 
Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George? Hark 

you. 
Mrs. Ford. How now, sweet Frank! why art 

thou melancholy? 
Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. 

Get you home, go. 
Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in 

thy head. Now, will you go, Mistress Page ? 
Mrs. Page. Have with you. You '11 come to 170 

dinner, George? [Aside to Mrs. Ford] 

Look who com_es yonder: she shall be our 

messenger to this paltry knight. 
Mrs. Ford. [Aside to Mrs. Page] Trust me, I 

thought on her : she '11 fit it. 

Enter Mistress Quickly. 

Mrs. Page. You are come to see mj^ daughter 

Anne ? 
Quick. Aye, forsooth; and, I pray, how does 

good Mistress Anne ? 
3Irs. Page. Go in with us and see : we have an 180 

hour's talk with you. 
[Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly. 
Page. How now. Master Ford! 
Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did 

you not? 
Page. Yes: and you heard what the other told 

me? 
Ford. Do 5^ou think there is truth in them? 
Page. Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the 
37 



Act II. So. 1. MERRY WIVES 

knight would offer it: but these that accuse 
him in his intent towards our wives are a 190 
yoke of his discarded men ; very rogues, now 
they be out of service. 

Ford. Were they his men? 

Page. Marry, were they. 

Ford. I hke it never the better for that. Does 
he lie at the Garter? 

Page. Aye, marry, does he. If he should in- 
tend this voyage toward my wife, I would 
turn her loose to him ; and what he gets more 
of her than sharp words, let it lie on my 200 
head. 

Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife ; but I would 
be loath to turn them together. A man may 
be too confident: I would have nothing lie 
on my head : I cannot be thus satisfied. 

Page. Look where my ranting host of the Gar- 
ter comes : there is either liquor in his* pate, 
or money in his purse, when he looks so 
merrily. 

Enter Host. 
How now, mine host ! 210 

Host. How now, bully-rook ! thou 'rt a gentle- 
man. Cavaleiro- justice, I say! 

Enter Shallow. 

Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow. Good even 
and twenty, good Master Page! Master 
Page, will you go with us? we have sport in 
hand. 

191. "yoke"; pair.— C. H. H. 
38 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. i. 

Host. Tell him, cavaleiro- justice; tell him, 
bully-rook. 

Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between 
Sir Hugh the Welsh priest and Caius the 220 
French doctor. 

Ford. Good mine host o' the Garter, a word 
with you. [Drawing him aside. 

Host. What say'st thou, my bully-rook? 

Shal. \_To Page'] Will you go with us to be- 
hold it? My merry host hath had the meas- 
uring of their weapons; and, I think, hath 
appointed them contrary places ; for, believe 
me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, 
I will tell you what our sport shall be. 230 

[They converse apart. 

Host. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my 
guest-cavaleire? 

Ford. None, I protest : but I '11 give you a pot- 
tle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, 
and tell him my name is Brook; only for a 
jest. 

Host. My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress 
and regress; — said I well?— and thy name 
shall be Brook. It is a merry knight. Will 
you go, An-heires? 240 

Shal. Have with you, mine host. 

235-238. In the Folios the name "Broome" is given instead of 
"Brooke"; but Falstaflf's pun, "Such Brooks are welcome to me, 
that overflow with liquor," removes all doubt as to the correct read- 
ing, which is actually found in the Quartos. — I, G. 

240. "Will you go, An-heires?" so the Folios and Quartos; Theo- 
bald's correction "mynheers" has been adopted by many modern edi- 
tors. Other suggestions are "on, here"; "on, hearts"; "on, heroes"; 
"cavaleires," &c. — I. G. 



Act II. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

Page, I have heard the Frenchman hath good 
skill in his rapier. 

Shal. Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In 
these times you stand on distance, your 
passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what : 'tis 
the heart, Master Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. 
I have seen the time, with my long sword I 
would have made you four tall fellows skip 
hke rats. ^50 

Host. Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag? 

Page. Have with you. I had rather hear them 
scold than fight. 

[Eoceunt Host, Shal., and Page. 

Ford. Though Page be a secure fool, and 
stands so firmly on his wife's frailty, yet I 
cannot put off my opinion so easily : she was 
in his company at Page's house; and what 
they made there, I know not. Well, I will 
look further into 't : and I have a disguise to 
sound FalstafF. If I find her honest, I lose 260 
not my labor; if she be otherwise, 'tis labor 
well bestowed. [Exit. 

248. "long sxoord"; before the introduction of rapiers the swords 
in use were of an enormous length and sometimes used with both 
hands. Shallow, with an old man's vanity, censures the innovation, 
and ridicules the terms and use of the rapier. — H. N. H. 

258. "ichat they made there"; that is, what they did there. In Act 
iv. Sc. 2, of this play we have again, what make you here? for what 
do you here?— H. N. H. 



4Q 



OF WINDSOR Act. II. Sc. ii 



Scene II 

A room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Falstaff and Pistol, 

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny. 

Pist. Why, then the world's mine oyster, 
Which I with sword will open. 

Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, 
you should lay my countenance to pawn: I 
have grated upon my good friends for three 
reprieves for you and your coach-fellow 
Nym; or else you had looked through the 
grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am 
damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen 10 
my friends, you were good soldiers and tall 
fellows; and when Mistress Bridget lost the 
handle of her fan, I took 't upon mine 
honor thou hadst it not. 

Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not 
fifteen pence? 

Fal. Reason, you rogue, reason: think'st thou 
I '11 endanger my soul gratis? At a word, 
hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for 

7. "coach- fellow"; that is, he who draws along with you, who is 
joined with you in all your knavery. — H. N. H. 

13. "handle of her fan"; fans were costly appendages of female 
dress in Shakespeare's time. They consisted of ostrich and other 
feathers, fixed into handles, some of which were made of gold, silver, 
or ivory of curious workmanship. Thus in the second Sestyad of 
Marlowe's Hero and Leander: 

"Her painted fan of curled plumes let fall."— H. N. H. 
41 



Act II. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

you. Go. A short knife and a throng! — 20 
iTo your manor of Pickt-hatch! Go! 
You '11 not bear a letter for me, you rogue ! 
you stand upon your honor! Why, thou 
unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can 
do to keep the terms of my honor precise: 
I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear 
of God on the left hand, and hiding mine 
honor in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to 
hedge, and to lurch ; and yet you, rogue, will 
ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain 30 
looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your 
bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your 
honor ! You will not do it, you ! 
Pist. I do relent: what would thou more of 
man? 

Enter Robin. 

Rob, Sir, here 's a woman would speak with 

you. 
Fal. Let her approach. 

Enter Mistress Quickly. 

Quick. Give your worship good morrow. 

Fal. Good morrow, good wife. 40 

Quick. Not so, an 't please your worship. 

Fal. Good maid, then. 

Quick. I '11 be sworn; 

As my mother was, the first hour I was born. 
Fal. I do believe the swearer. What with me? 

20. "a short knife and a throng"; that is, go and cut purses in a 
crowd. Purses were then worn hanging at the girdle. — H. N. H. 
24, "unconfinable" ; unrestrainable. — C. H. H. 
42 



OF Windsor Act. n. sc. n. 

Quick. Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word 
or two? 

Fal. Two thousand, fair woman : and I '11 
vouchsafe thee the hearing. 

Quick. There is one Mistress Ford, sir: — I 50 1 
pray, come a little nearer this ways : — I my- 
self dwell with Master Doctor Caius, — 

Fal. Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say, — 

Quick. Your worship says very true: — I pray 
your worship, come a little nearer this ways. 

Fal. I warrant thee, nobody hears; — mine own 
people, mine own people. 

Quick. Are they so? God bless them, and 
make them his servants! 

Fal. Well, Mistress Ford;— what of her? 60 

Quick. Why, sir, she 's a good creature. — Lord, 
Lord ! your worship 's a wanton ! Well, 
heaven forgive you and all of us, I pray! 

Fal. Mistress Ford; — come. Mistress Ford, — 

Quick. Marry, this is the short and the long of 
it ; you have brought her into such a canaries 
as 'tis wonderful. The best courtier of them 
all, when the court lay at Windsor, could 
never have brought her to such a canary. 
Yet there has been knights, and lords, and 70 
gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant 
you, coach after coach, letter after letter, gift 
after gift; smelling so sweetly, all musk, 
and so rushling, I warrant you, in silk and 
gold ; and in such alligant terms ; and in such 
wine and sugar of the best and the fairest, 
that would have won any woman's heart; 
43 



Act II. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

and, I warrant you, they could never get 
an eye-wink of her: I had myself twenty 
angels given me this morning ; but I defy all 80 
angels — in any such sort, as they say — but 
in the way of honesty: and, I warrant you, 
they could never get her so much as sip on a 
cup with the proudest of them all: and yet 
there has been earls, nay, which is more, 
pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one 
with her. 

Fal. But what says she to me? be brief, my 
good she-^Iercury. 

Quick. Marry, she hath received your letter ; for 90 
the which she thanks you a thousand times; 
and she gives you to notify, that her hus- 
band will be absence from his house between 
ten and eleven. 

Fal. Ten and eleven. 

Quick. Aye, forsooth; and then you may come 
and see the picture, she says, that you wot 
of: Master Ford, her husband, will be from 
home. Alas, the sweet woman leads an ill 
life with him! he 's a very jealousy man: she 100 
leads a very frampold life with him, good 
heart. 

Fal. Ten and eleven. Woman, commend me 
to her ; I will not fail her. 

Quick. Why, you say well. But I have an- 
other messenger to your worship. Mistress 
Page hath her hearty commendations to you, 
too : and let me tell you in your ear, she 's 
as fartuous a civil modest wife, and one, I 

44 



OF WINDSOR Act. IL Sc. ii. 

tell you, that will not miss you morning nor HO 
evening prayer, as any is in Windsor, who- 
e'er be the other: and she bade me tell your 
worship that her husband is seldom from 
home ; but, she hopes, there will come a time. 
I never knew a woman so dote upon a man : 
surely, I think you have charms, la; yes, in 
truth. 

Fal. Not I, I assure thee : setting the attraction 
of my good parts aside, I have no other 
charms. 120 

Quick. Blessing on your heart for 't ! 

Fal. But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's 
wife and Page's wife acquainted each other 
how they love me? 

Quick. That were a jest indeed; they have not 
so little grace, I hope: that were a trick in- 
deed! But Mistress Page would desire you 
to send her your little page, of all loves: 
her husband has a marvelous infection to the 
little page ; and, trulj^ Master Page is an 130 
honest man. Never a wife in Windsor leads 
a better life than she does : do what she will, 
say what she will, take all, pay all, go to bed 
when she list, rise when she list, all is as she 
will: and, truly, she deserves it; for if there 
be a kind woman in Windsor, she is one. 
You must send her your page; no remedy. 

Fal. Why, I will. 

Quick. Nay, but do so, then: but, look you, he 

128. "of all loves"; in the name of all love (a strong adjuration, 
equivalent to "in the name of goodness," or the like). — C. H. H. 
45 



Act n. Sc. il. MERRY WIVES 

may come and go between you both ; and, in 140 
any case, have a nay-word, that you may 
know one another's mind, and the boy never 
need to understand any thing; for 'tis not 
good that children should know any wicked- 
ness: old folks, you know, have discretion, 
as they say, and know the world. 

Fal. Fare thee well: commend me to them 
both : there 's my purse ; I am yet thy debtor. 
Boy, go along with this woman. [Exeunt 
Mistress Quickly and Robin,^ This news 150 
distracts me! 

Pist, This punk is one of Cupid's carriers : 

Clap on more sails ; pursue ; up with your fights : 

Give fire : she is my prize, or ocean whelm them 

all! [Ecvit. 

Fal. Say'st thou so, old Jack? go thy ways; I '11 
make more of thy old body than I have 
done. Will they yet look after thee? Wilt 
thou, after the expense of so much money, 
be now a gainer ? Good body, I thank thee. 
Let them say 'tis grossly done ; so it be fairly 160 
done, no matter. 

Enter Bardolph, 

Bard. Sir John, there 's one Master Brook be- 
low would fain speak with you, and be ac- 
quainted with you ; and hath sent your wor- 
ship a morning's draught of sack. 

164. "sent your worship a morning's draught"; it seems to have 

been a common custom in taverns, in Shakespeare's time, to send 

presents of wine from one room to another either as a memorial 

of friendship, or by way of introduction to acquaintance. In the 

46 



OF WINDSOR Act. li. Sc. ii. 

Fal. Brook is his name? 

Bard. Aye, sir. 

Fal. Call him in. [Exit Bardolph.'] Such 
Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflow such 
liquor. Ah, ha ! Mistress Ford and Mistress 170 
Page have I encompassed you ? go to ; via ! 

Re-enter Bardolph, with Ford disguised. 

Ford. Bless you, sir! 

Fal. And you, sir! Would you speak with 
me? 

Ford. I make bold to press with so little prepa- 
ration upon you. 

Fal. You 're welcome. What 's your will? — 
Give us leave, drawer. [Exit Bardolph. 

Ford. Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent ' • 
much; my name is Brook. 180 

Fal. Good Master Brook, I desire more ac- 
quaintance of you. 

Ford. Good Sir John, I sue for yours: not to 
charge you; for I must let you understand 
I think myself in better plight for a lender 
than you are : the which hath something em- 
boldened me to this unseasoned intrusion; 

Parliamentary History, we have the following passage from The 
Life of General Monk, by Dr. Price: "I came to the Three Tuns, 
before Guildhall, where the general had quartered two nights be- 
fore. I entered the tavern with a servant and portmanteau, and 
asked for a room, which I had scarce got into but wine folloived 
me as a present from some citizens desiring leave to drink their 
morning's draught with me."— H. N. H. 

171. "Via," an Italian word, which Florio explains: — "An adverb 
of encouragement, on away, go to, away forward, go on, dispatch." 
— H. N. H. 

47 



Act II. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

for they say, if money go before, all ways 
do lie open. 

Fal. JVIoney is a good soldier, sir, and will on. 190 

Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of money here 
troubles me: if you will help to bear it, Sir 
John, take all, or half, for easing me of the 
carriage. 

Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be 
your porter. 

Ford. I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the 
hearing. 

Fal. Speak, good Master Brook: I shall be 
glad to be your servant. 200 

Ford. Sir, I hear you are a scholar, — I will be 
brief with you, — and you have been a man 
long known to me, though I had never so 
good means, as desire, to make myself ac- 
quainted with you. I shall discover a thing 
to you, wherein I must very much lay open 
mine own imperfection : but, good Sir John, 
as you have one eye upon my follies, as you 
hear them unfolded, turn another into the 
register of your own ; that I may pass with 210 
are proof the easier, sith you yourself know 
how easy it is to be such an offender. 

Fal. Very well, sir ; proceed. 

Ford, There is a gentlewoman in this town ; her 
husband's name is Ford. 

Fal. Well, sir. 

Foi'd. I have long loved her, and, I protest to 
you, bestowed much on her; followed her 

211. "sith"; i. e. since.— H. N. H. 
48 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. ii. 

with a doting observance; engros§ed oppor- 
tunities to meet her ; f ee'd every shght occa- 220 
sion that could but niggardly give me sight 
of her; not only bought many presents to 
give her, but have given largely to many to 
know what she would have given; briefly, I 
have pursued her as love hath pursued me; 
which hath been on the wing of all occasions. 
But whatsoever I have merited, either in my 
mind or in my means, meed, I am sure, I 
have received none; unless experience be a 
jewel that I have purchased at an infinite 230 
rate, and that hath taught me to say this : 
'Love like a shadow flies when substance love 

pursues ; 
Pursuing that that flies, and flying what 
pursues.' 

Fal. Have you received no promise of satisfac- 
tion at her hands? 

Ford. Never. 

Fal. Have you importuned her to such a pur- 
pose? 

Ford. Never. 

Fal. Of what quality was your love, then? 

Ford. Like a fair house built on another man's 240 
ground; so that I have lost my edifice by 
mistaking the place where I erected it. 

Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this 
to me? 

Ford. When I have told you that, I have told 
you all. Some say, that though she appear 

219. "observance"; obsequious courtesy .^C. H. H. 
XXI— 4 49 



Act II. Sc. iL MERRY WIVES 

Honest to me, yet in other places she en- 
largeth her mirth so far that there is shrewd 
construction made of her. Now, Sir John, 
here is the heart of my purpose : you are a 250 
gentleman of excellent breeding, admira- 
ble discourse, of great admittance, authen- 
tic in your place and person, generally al- 
lowed for your many war-like, court-like 
and learned preparations. 

Fal O, sir! 

Ford. Believe it, for you know it. There is 
money ; spend it, spend it ; spend more ; spend 
all I have; only give me so much of your 
time in exchange of it, as to lay an amiable 260 
siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife : use 
your art of wooing; win her to consent to 
you: if any man may, you may as soon as 
any. 

Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemency of 
your aiFection, that I should win what you 
would enjoy? Methinks you prescribe to 
yourself very preposterously. 

Ford. O, understand my drift. She dwells so 
securely on the excellency of her honor, that 270 
the folly of my soul dares not present itself : 
she is too bright to be looked against. Now, 
could I come to her with any detection in my 
hand, my desires had instance and argument 
to commend themselves: I could drive her 
then from the ward of her purity, her repu- 
tation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand 

255. "preparations"; accomplishments. — C. H. H. 
50 



OF WINDSOR Act 11. Sc. ii. 

other her defenses, which now are too too 
strongly embattled against me. What say 
you to % Sir John? 280 

Fal, Master Brook, I will first make bold with 
your money; next, give me your hand; and 
last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you . 
will, enjoy Ford's wife. 

Ford. O good sir! 

Fal. I say you shall. 

Ford. Want no money. Sir John; you shall 
want none. 

Fal. Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook; 
you shall want none. I shall be with her, 290 
I may tell you, by her own appointment; 
even as you came in to me, her assistant, or 
go-between, parted from me: I say I shall 
be with her between ten and eleven; for at 
that time the jealous rascally knave her hus- 
band will be forth. Come you to me at 
night; you shall know how I speed. 

Ford. I am blest in your acquaintance. Do 
you know Ford, sir? 

Fal. Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave ! I know 300 
him not : — yet I wrong him to call him poor : 
they say the jealous wittolly knave hath 
masses of money; for the which his wife 
seems to me well-favored. I will use her as 
the key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer ; and 
there 's my harvest-home. 

Ford. I would you knew Ford, sir, that you 
might avoid him, if you saw him. 

Fal. Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! 

51 



Act. II. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

I will stare him out of his wits ; I will awe 310 
him with my cudgel : it shall hang like a me- 
teor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master 
Brook, thou shalt know I will predominate 
over the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his 
wife. Come to me soon at night. Ford 's 
a knave, and I will aggravate his style ; thou, 
Master Brook, shalt know him for knave 
and cuckold. Come to me soon at night. \_Emt. 
Ford. What a damned Epicurean rascal is this ! 
My heart is ready to crack with impatience. 320 
Who says this is improvident jealousy? my 
wife hath sent to him ; the hour is fixed ; the 
match is made. Would any mail have 
thought this? See the hell of having a 
falser woman ! My bed shall be abused, my 
coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at; 
and I shall not onlj^ receive this villainous 
wrong, but stand under the adoption of 
abominable terms, and by him that does me 
this wrong. Terms! names! — AmaimonSSO 
sounds well; Lucifer, well; Barbason, well; 
yet they are devils' additions, the names of 
fiends: but Cuckold! Wittol!— Cuckold! 
the devil himself hath not such a name. 
Page is an ass, a secure ass : he will trust his 
wife; he will not be jealous. I will rather 
trust a Fleming with my butter. Parson 
Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an 
Irishman with my aqua-vitse bottle, or a 
thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my 340 
wife with herself: then she plots, then she 

52 



OF WINDSOR Act 11. Sc. iii. 

ruminates, then she devises; and what they 
think in their hearts they may effect, they 
will break their hearts but they will effect. 
God be praised for my jealousy! — Eleven 
o'clock the hour. I will prevent this, de- 
tect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff , and 
laugh at Page. I will about it ; better three 
hours too soon than a minute too late. Fie, 
fie, fie ! cuckold ! cuckold ! cuckold ! \_Eajit. 350 



Scene III 

A field near Windsor, 
Enter Cuius and Rugby, 

Caius. Jack Rugby! 

Rug. Sir? 

Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack? 

Rug. 'Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh 
promised to meet. 

Caius. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no 
come ; he has pray his Pible well, dat he is no 
come: by gar. Jack Rugby, he is dead al- 
ready, if he be come. 

Rug. He is wise, sir; he knew your worship 10 
would kill him, if he came. 

Caius. By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill 
kill him. Take your rapier. Jack ; I vill tell 
you how I vill kill him. 

Rug. Alas, sir, I cannot fence. 
53 



Act IL Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Caius. Villainy, take your rapier. 
Rug. Forbear ; here 's company. 

Enter Host, Shallow, Slender, and Page. 

Host. Bless thee, bully doctor ! 

Shal. Save you, Master Doctor Caius! 

Page. Now, good master doctor ! 20 

Slen. Give you good morrow, sir. 

Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come 
for? ^ 

Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see 
thee traverse; to see thee here, to see thee 
there; to see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, 
thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant. Is 
he dead, my Ethiopian? is he dead, my 
Francisco? ha, bully! What says my ^s- 
culapius? my Galen? my heart of elder? ha! 30 
is he dead, bully-stale? is he dead? 

Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of 
de vorld; he is not show his face. 

Host. Thou art a Castalion- King-Urinal. 
Hector of Greece, my boy ! 

Caius. I pray you, bear vitness that me have 
stay six or seven, two, tree hours for him, 
and he is no come. 

Shal. He is the wiser man, master doctor: he is 
a curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies; 40 
if you should fight, you go against the hair 
of your professions. Is it not true. Master 
Page? 

29. "Francisco"; for Frenchman. — C. H. H. 
41. "against the hair"; against the grain, — C. H. H, 
54 



OF WINDSOR Act II. Sc. lii. 

Page. Master Shallow, you have yourself been 
a great fighter, though now a man of peace. 

Shal. Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be 
old, and of the peace, if I see a sword out, 
my finger itches to make one. Though we 
are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, 
Master Page, we have some salt of our youth 50 
in us; we are the sons of women, Master 
Page. 

Page. 'Tis true, Master Shallow. 

Shal. It will be found so, Master Page. Mas- 
ter Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you 
home. I am sworn of the peace: you have 
showed yourself a wise physician, and Sir 
Hugh hath shown himself a wise and pa- 
tient churchman. You must go with me, 
master doctor. 60 

Host. Pardon, guest- justice. — A word, Moun- 
seur Mock-water. 

Caius. Mock-vater! vat is dat? 

Host. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is 
valor, bully. 

Caius. By gar, den, I have as much mock-vater 
as de Englishman. — Scurvy Jack-dog 
priest ! by gar, me vill cut his ears. 

Host. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. 

Caius. Clapper-de-claw! vat is dat? '^^ 

Host. That is, he will make thee amends. 

Caius. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de- 
claw me ; for, by gar, me vill have it. 

61. "Mounseur Mock-ioater" ; probably some allusion to the doctor's 
medical practice. — H. N. H. 

55 



Act II. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Host. And I will provoke him to 't, or let him 
wag. 

Caius. Me tank you for dat. 

Host. And, moreover, bully, — But first, master 
guest, and Master Page, and eke Cavaleiro 
Slender, go you through the town to Frog- 
more. [Aside to them. 80 

Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? 

Host. He is there : see what humor he is in ; and 
I will bring the doctor about by the fields. 
Will it do well? 

Shal. We will do it. 

Page, Shot., and Slen. Adieu, good master 
doctor. [Eooeunt Page, Shal., and Slen. 

Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he 
speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. 

Host. Let him die: sheathe thy impatience, 90 
throw cold water on thy choler : go about the 
fields with me through Frogmore: I will 
bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is, at a 
farm-house a-f easting; and thou shalt woo • 
her. Cried I aim? said I well? 

Caius. By gar, me dank you vor dat: by gar, I 
love you ; and I shall procure-a you de good 
guest, de earl, de knight, de lords, de gen- 
tlemen, my patients. 

Host. For the which I will be thy adversary to- 100 
ward Anne Page. Said I well? 

Caius. By gar, 'tis good; veil said. 

Host. Let us wag, then. 

Caius. Come at my heels. Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. 

95. "Cried I aim?" The Folios and Quartos read "cried game"; 
the ingenious emendation, due to Douce^ was first adopted by Dyce. 
-I. G. 56 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. i. 



ACT THIRD 

Scene I 

A field nea?' Frogmore, 
Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple. 

Evans. I pray you now, good Master Slender's 
serving-man, and friend Simple by your 
name, which way have you looked for Mas- 
ter Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic? 

Sim. Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, 
every way ; old Windsor way, and every way 
but the town way. 

Evans. I most fehemently desire you you will 
also look that way. 

Sim. I will, sir. {Exit. 10 

Evans. Pless my soul, how full of choUors I 
am, and trempling of mind — I shall be glad 
if he have deceived me. — How melancholies 
I am! — I will knog his urinals about his 
knave's costard when I have goot opportuni- 
ties for the ork. — Pless my soul! — [Sings. 

To shallow rivers, to whose falls 
Melodious birds sings madrigals; 

17, etc. Sir Hugh oddly confuses Marlowe's famous ditty, "Come 
live with me and be my love," and the old version of the 137th 
Psalm, "When we did sit in Babylon." — I. G. 

57 



Act in. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

There will we make our peds of roses, 

And a thousand fragrant posies. 20 

To shallow — 

Mercy on me ! I have a great dispositions to cry. 

ISings. 
Melodious birds sing madrigals — 
iWhenas I sat in Pabylon — 
And a thousand vagram posies. 
To shallow &c. 

Re-enter Simple. 

Sim. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. 
Evans. He 's welcome. — \_Sings. 

To shallow rivers, to whose falls — 

Heaven prosper the right! — What weapons 30 
is he? 

Sim. No weapons, sir. There comes my mas- 
ter. Master Shallow, and another gentleman, 
from Frogmore, over the stile, this way. 

Evans. Pray you, give me my gown; or else 
keep it in your arms. 

Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. 

Shot. How now, master parson! Good mor- 
row, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester 
from the dice, and a good student from his 
book, and it is wonderful. 40 

Slen. [Aside^ Ah, sweet Anne Page! 

Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh. 

Evans. Pless you from his mercy sake, all of 



you! 



58 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. i. 

Shal, What, the sword and the word! do you 

study them both, master parson? 
Page. And youthful still ! in your doublet and 

hose this raw rheumatic day! 
Evans. There is reasons and causes for it. 
Page. We are come to you to do a good office, 50 

master parson. 
Evans, Fery well: what is it? 
Page. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, 

who, belike having received wrong by some 

person, is at most odds with his own gravity 

and patience that ever you saw. 
iShal. I have lived fourscore years and upward; 

I never heard a man of his place, gravity, 

and learning, so wide of his own respect. 
Evans. What is he? 60 

Page. I think you know him; Master Doctor 

Caius, the renowned French physician. 
Evans. Got's will, and his passion of my heart! 

I had as lief you would tell me of a mess of 

porridge. 
Page. Why? 
Evans. He has no more knowledge in Hibo- 

crates and Galen, — and he is a knave besides ; 

a cowardly knave as you would desires to be 

acquainted withal. 70 

Page. I warrant you, he 's the man should fight 

with him. 
Slen. lAside.~\ O sweet Anne Page ! 
Shal. It appears so, by his weapons. Keep 

them asunder: here comes Doctor Caius. 



59 



Act in. Sc. I MERRY WIVES 

Enter Host, Caius, and Rugby. 

Page, Nay, good master parson, keep in your 
weapon. 

Shal. So do you, good master doctor. 

Host. Disarm them, and let them question: let 
them keep their limbs whole, and hack our 80 
Enghsh. 

Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word with 
your ear. Verefore vill you not meet-a me? 

Evans. [Aside to Caius^ Pray you, use your 
patience: in good time. 

Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, 
John Ape. 

Evans. [Aside to Cains'] Pray you, let us not be 
laughing-stocks to other men's humors; I 
desire you in friendship, and I will one way 90 
or other make you amends. [Aloud] I will 
knog your urinals about your knave's cogs- 
comb for missing your meetings and ap- 
pointments. 

Caius. Diable! — Jack Rugby, — mine host de 
Jarteer, — have I not stay for him to kill 
him ? have I not, at de place I did appoint ? 

Evans. As I am a Christians soul, now, look 
you, this is the place appointed: I '11 be judg- 
ment by mine host of the Garter. 100 

Host. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French 
and Welsh, soul-curer and body-curer! 

Caius. Aye, dat is very good ; excellent. 

101. "Gallia and Gaul"; so the Folios; the first and second Quartos 
read "Gawie and Gawlia"; Farmer's conjecture "Guallia and Gaul" 
was adopted by Malone and other editors. Gallia = Wales. — I. G. 

60 



OF WINDSOR Act in. Sc. i. 

Host. Peace, I say ! hear mine host of the Gar- 
ter. Am I poHtic? am I subtle? am I a 
Machiavel? Shall I lose my doctor? no; he 
gives me the potions and the motions. Shall 
I lose my parson, my priest, my Sir Hugh? 
no; he gives me the proverbs and the no- 
verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial ; so. HO 
Give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of 
art, I have deceived j^ou both ; I have directed 
you to wrong places ; your hearts are mighty, 
your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be 
the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn. 
Follow me, lads of peace; follow, follow, 
follow. 

Shal. Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentle- 
men, follow. 

Slen. lAsidel O sweet Anne Page ! 120 

[Exeunt Shal., Slen., Page, and Host. 

Caius. Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a 
de sot of us, ha, ha? 

Evans. This is well; he has made us his vlout- 
ingstog. — I desire you that we may be 
friends ; and let us knog our prains together 
to be revenge on this small scall, scurvy, cog- 
ging companion, the host of the Garter. 

Caius. By gar, with all my heart. He prom- 
ise to bring me where is Anne Page ; by gar, 
he deceive me too. 130 

122. "sot" (here in the French sense), fool.— C. H. H. 
126. "scall"; that is, scall' d-heacl, a term of reproach. Chaucer 
imprecates on the scrivener who miswrites his verse: 

"Under thy long locks mayest thou have the scalle." — H. N. H. 

61 



Act III. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

Evans. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray 
you, follow. [Exeunt, 



Scene II 

The street^ in Windsor. 
Enter Mistress Page and Robin. 

Mrs. Page. Nay, keep your way, little gallant ; 
you were wont to be a follower, but now you 
are a leader. Whether had you rather lead 
mine eyes, or eye your master's heels? 

Rob. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like 
a man than follow him like a dwarf. 

Mrs. Page. O, you are a flattering boy: now I 
see you '11 be a courtier. 

Enter Ford. 

Ford. Well met, mistress Page. Whither go 
you? 10 

Mrs. Page. Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she 
at home? 

Ford. Aye ; and as idle as she may hang to- 
gether, for want of company. I think, if 
your husbands were dead, you two would 
marry. 

Mrs. Page. Be sure of that, — two other hus- 
bands. 

Ford. Where had you this pretty weathercock? 

Mrs. Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his 20 
62 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. ii. 

name is my husband had him of. — ^What do 
you call your knight's name, sirrah? 

Rob. Sir John FalstafF. 

Ford. Sir John FalstafF! 

Mis. Page. He, he ; I can never hit on 's name. 
There is such a league between my good 
man and he! — Is your wife at home indeed? 

Ford, Indeed she is. 

Mrs. Page. By your leave, sir: I am sick till I 
see her. [Ecceunt Mrs. Page and Robin. 30 

Ford. Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? 
hath he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he 
hath no use of them. Why, this boy will 
carry a letter twenty mile, as easy as a can- 
non will shoot point-blank twelve score. He 
pieces out his wife's inclination ; he gives her 
folly motion and advantage : and now she 's 
going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with 
her. A man may hear this shower sing in the 
wind. And Falstaff's boy with her! Good 40 
plots, they are laid; and our revolted wives 
share damnation together. Well; I will 
take him, then torture my wife, pluck the 
borrowed veil of modesty from the so seem- 
ing Mistress Page, divulge Page himself 
for a secure and willful Actason ; and to these 

34. "twenty mile"; the use of the singular for the plural, especially 
in statements of time and distance, was not uncommon in Shake- 
speare's time. Thus in The Tempest Prospero say, — "Twelve year 
since, Miranda, twelve year since, thy father was the duke of 
Milan."— H. N. H. 

46. "Actceon"; cuckold (on account of the horns which he wore 
when transformed into a stag). — C. H. H. 

63 



Act III. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

violent proceedings all my neighbors shall 
cry aim. [Clock heard.'] The clock gives 
me my cue, and my assurance bids me search : 
there I shall find Falstaif : I shall be rather 50 
praised for this than mocked; for it is as 
positive as the earth is firm that Falstaif is 
there: I will go. 

Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sir Hugh 
Evans, Caius, and Rugby. 

Shal., Page, 8^c. Well met. Master Ford. 

Ford. Trust me, a good knot: I have good 
cheer at home; and I pray you all go with 
me. 

Shal. I must excuse myself, Master Ford. 

Slen. And so must I, sir: we have appointed to 
dine with Mistress Anne, and I would not 60 
break with her for more money than I '11 
speak of. 

Shal. We have lingered about a match between 
Anne Page and my cousin Slender, and this 
day we shall have our answer. 

Slen. I hope I have your good will, father Page. 

Page. You have. Master Slender; I stand 
wholly for you : — but my wife, master doc- 
tor, is for you altogether. 

Caius. Aye, be-gar; and de maid is love-a me: 70 
my nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush. 

Host. What say you to young Master Fenton? 
he capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, 
he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells 

74. "speaks holiday"; to speak out of the common style. Thus in 
64 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. ii. 

April and May: he will carry 't, he will 
carry 't ; 'tis in his bu ttons ; he will carry 't. 

Page. Not by my consent, I promise you. The 
gentleman is of no having : he kept company 
with the wild prince and Poines ; he is of too 
high a region; he knows too much. No, he ^0 
shall not knit a knot in his fortunes with the 
finger of my substance: if he take her, let 
him take her simply ; the wealth I have waits 
on my consent, and my consent goes not that 
way. 

Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you go 
home with me to dinner : besides your cheer, 
you shall have sport ; I will show you a mon- 
ster. Master doctor, you shall go; so shall 
you, Master Page; and you. Sir Hugh. 90 

Shal. Well, fare you well: we shall have the 
freer wooing at Master Page's. 

[Exeunt Shal. and Slen. 

Caius. Go home, John Rugby; I come anon. 

[Exit Rugby. 

Host. Farewell, my hearts : I will to my honest 
knight FalstafF, and drink canary with him. 

[Exit. 

Hotspur's account of the dandy lord: "With many holiday and lady 
terms he questioned me." He smells April and May; that is, smells 
of them.— H. N. H. 

78. "of no having"; that is, fortune or possessions. So, in Twelfth 
Night: 

"My having is not much; 
I'll make division of my present with you; 
Hold, there is half my coffer."— H. N. H. 

80-81. "He shall not knit a knot in his fortunes" (which are now 
as it were unraveled). — I. G. 

XXI-5 65 



Act III. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Ford. [Aside] I think I shall drink in pipe- 
wine first with him ; I '11 make him dance. 
Will you go, gentles? 

All. Have with you to see this monster. [Exeunt, 



Scene III 
A room in Ford's house. 

Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page. 

Mrs. Ford. What, John! What, Robert! 

Mrs. Page. Quickly, quickly ! — is the buck-bas- 
ket— 

Mrs. Ford. I warrant. What, Robin, I say! 

Enter Servants with a basket, 

Mrs. Page. Come, come, come. 

Mrs. Ford. Here, set it down. 

3Irs. Page. Give your men the charge; we 
must be brief. 

3Irs. Ford. Marry, as I told you before, John 
and Robert, be ready here hard by in the 10 
brew-house; for when I suddenly call you, 
come forth, and, without any pause or stag- 
gering, take this basket on your shoulders: 
that done, trudge with it in all haste, and 
carry it among the whitsters in Datchet- 
mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch 
close by the Thames side. 

Mrs. Page. You will do it? 

Mrs. Ford. I ha' told them over and over ; they 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. iii. 

lack no direction. Be gone, and come when 20 
you are called. [Exeunt Servants. 

Mrs. Page. Here comes little Robin. 

Enter Robin. 

Mrs. Ford. How now, my eyas-musket! what 
news with you? 

Rob. My master. Sir John, is come in at your 
back-door. Mistress Ford, and requests your 
company. 

Mrs. Page. You little Jack-a-Lent, have you 
been true to us? 

Rob. Aye, I '11 be sworn. My master knows not 30 
of your being here, and hath threatened to 
put me into everlasting liberty, if I tell you 
of it ; for he swears he '11 turn me away. 

Mrs. Page. Thou 'rt a good boy : this secrecy 
of thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall 
make thee a new doublet and hose. I '11 go 
hide me. 

Mrs. Ford. Do so. Go tell thy master I am 
alone. [Exit Robin.} Mistress Page, re- 
member you your cue. 40 

3Irs. Page. I warrant thee; if I do not act it, 
hiss me. [Exit. 

Mrs. Ford. Go to, then : we '11 use this un- 
wholesome humidity, this gross watery pum- 
pion ; we '11 teach him to know turtles from 
jays. 

Enter Falstaf. 
67 



Act III. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Fal. 'Have I caught' thee, *my heavenly 
jewel?' Why, now let me die, for I have 
lived long enough: this is the period of my 
ambition : O this blessed hour ! 50 

Mrs. Ford. O sweet Sir John ! 

Fal. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot 
prate, Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in 
my wish: I would thy husband were dead: 
I '11 speak it before the best lord ; I would 
make thee my lady. 

Mrs. Ford. I your lady, Sir John! alas, I 
should be a pitiful lady ! 

Fal. Let the court of France show me such an- 
other. I see how thine eye would emulate 60 
the diamond: thou hast the right arched 
beauty of the brow that becomes the ship- 
tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian 
admittance. 

3Irs. Ford. A plain kerchief. Sir John: my 
brows become nothing else; nor that well 
neither. 

Fal. By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so: 
thou wouldst make an absolute courtier; and 
the firm fixture of thy foot would give an 70 
excellent motion to thy gait in a semicircled 
farthingale. I see what thou wert, if For- 

47. "Have I caught thee"; probably the reading of the Quarto 
which omits "thee" is the more correct; Falstaff quotes from the 
second song in Sydney's Astrophel and Stella: — 

"Have I caught my heav'nly jewell, 
Teaching sleep most faire to be? 
Now will I teach her that she 
When she wakes is too-too cruell." — I. G. 

68 



OF WINDSOR Act in. Sc. m. 

tune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. 
Come, thou canst not hide it. 

Mrs. Ford. Beheve me, there 's no such thing 
in me. 

Fat. What made me love thee? let that per- 
suade thee there 's something extraordinary 
in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and say thou 
art this and that, like a many of these lisping 80 
hawthorn-buds, that come like women in 
men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury 
in simple time; I cannot: but I love thee; 
none but thee; and thou deservest it. 

Mrs. Ford. Do not betray me, sir. I fear you 
love Mistress Page. 

Fat. Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by 
the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me 
as the reek of a lime-kiln. 

Mrs. Ford. Well, heaven knows how I love 90 
you ; and you shall one day find it. 

Fal. Keep in that mind; I '11 deserve it. 

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I must tell you, so you do ; or 
else I could not be in that mind. 

Roh. [Within] Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! 
here 's Mistress Page at the door, sweating, 
and blowing, and looking wildly, and would 
. needs speak with you presently. 

Fal. She shall not see me: I will ensconce me 
behind the arras. 100 

73. "Nature thy friend"; that is, "if Fortune were not thy foe. 
Nature heing thy friend." Fortune my foe was the beginning of a 
popular old ballad, wherein were sung the evils that fall upon men 
through the caprice of Fortune. — H. N. H. 

100. "behind the arras" ; the spaces left between the walls and 

69 



Act III. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Mrs. Ford. Pray you, do so : she 's a very tat- 
tling woman. [Falstaff hides himself. 

Re-enter Mistress Page and Robin. 

What 's the matter ? how now ! 

Mrs. Page. O Mistress Ford, what have you 
done? You 're shamed, you 're overthrown, 
you 're undone for ever ! 

Mrs. Ford. What 's the matter, good Mistress 
Page? 

Mrs. Page. O well-a-day. Mistress Ford! hav- 
ing an honest man to your husband, to give HO 
him such cause of suspicion! 

Mrs. Ford. What cause of suspicion ? 

Mrs. Page. What cause of suspicion! Out 
upon you ! how am I mistook in you ! 

Mrs. Ford. Why, alas, what's the matter? 

Mrs. Page, Your husband 's coming hither, 
woman, with all the officers in Windsor, to 
search for a gentleman that he says is here 
now in the house, by your consent, to take an 
ill advantage of his absence : you are undone. 120 

Mrs. Ford. 'Tis not so, I hope. 

Mrs. Page. Pray heaven it be not so, that you 
have such a man here! but 'tis most certain 
your husband 's coming, with half Windsor 
at his heels, to search for such a one. I come 
before to tell you. If you know yourself 
clear, why, I am glad of it ; but if you have 

wooden fi-ames on which the tapestry was hung, were not more 
commodious to our ancestors, than to the authors of ancient dra- 
matic pieces. — H. N. H. 

70 



I 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. iii. 

a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be 
not amazed; call all your senses to you; de- 
fend your reputation, or bid farewell to your 13C 
good life for ever. 

Mrs. Ford. What shall I do ? There is a gen- 
tleman my dear friend; and I fear not mine 
own shame so much as his peril: I had 
rather than a thousand pound he were out of 
the house. 

Mrs. Page. For shame! never stand *you had 
rather' and 'yon had rather:' your husband 's 
here at hand; bethink you of some convey- 
ance : in the house you cannot hide him. 0, 140 
how have you deceived me ! Look, here is a 
basket: if he be of any reasonable stature, 
he may creep in here; and throw foul linen 
upon him, as if it were going to bucking : or, 
— it is whiting-time, — send him by your two 
men to Datchet-mead. 

Mrs. Ford. He 's too big to go in there. What 
shall I do? 

Fal. [Coming forward^ Let me see 't, let me 
see 't, O, let me see 'tl— I '11 in, I '11 in.— 150 
Follow your friend's counsel. — I '11 in. 

Mrs. Page. What, Sir John FalstafF! Ai-e 
these your letters, knight? 

Fal. I love thee. — Help me away. — Let me 
creep in here. — I '11 never^ — 

\_Gets into the basket j they cover him with foul 
linen. 

139. " convey ance"j mode of privately conveying him away. — C. 
H. H. 

4e 71 



Act III. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

Mrs. Page. Help to cover your master, boy. — 
Call your men, Mistress Ford.— You dis- 
sembling knight! 
Mrs. Ford. What, John! Robert! John! 

[Eocit Robin. 
Re-enter Servants. 

Go take up these clothes here quickly. — 160 
Where 's the cowl-staff? look, how you 
drumble! — Carry them to the laundress in 
Datchet-mead ; quickly, come. 

Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans. 

Ford. Pray you, come near: if I suspect with- 
out cause, why then make sport at me; then 
let me be your jest ; I deserve it. — How now ! 
whither bear you this? 

Serv. To the laundress, forsooth. 

Mrs. Ford. Why, what have you tb do whither 
they bear it? You were best meddle with 170 
buck-washing. 

Ford. Buck ! — I would I could wash myself of 
the buck! — Buck, buck, buck! Aye, buck; 
I warrant you, buck; and of the season too, 
it shall appear. [Exeunt Servants with the 
basket. ~\ Gentlemen, I have dreamed to- 
night; I '11 tell you my dream. Here, here, 
here be my keys: ascend my chambers; 
search, seek, find out : I '11 warrant we '11 
unkennel the fox. Let me stop this way 180 
first. [Locking the door.~\ So, now uncape. 

Page. Good Master Ford, be contented: you 
wrong yourself too much. 
72 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. iii. 

Ford. True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen; 
you shall see sport anon: follow me, gentle- 
men. [Exit, 

Evans. This is fery fantastical humors and 
jealousies. 

Cuius. By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France ; it 
is not jealous in France. 190 

Page. Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the is- 
sue of his search. [Exit Page, Caius, and Evans. 

Mrs. Page. Is there not a double excellency in 
this? 

Mrs. Ford. I know not which pleases me bet- 
ter, that my husband is deceived, or Sir John. 

Mrs. Page. What a taking was he in when 
your husband asked who was in the basket! 

Mrs. Ford. I am half afraid he will have need 
of washing ; so throwing him into the water 200 
will do him a benefit. 

Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest rascal! I 
would all of the same strain were in the same 
distress. 

Mrs. Ford. I think my husband hath some spe- 
cial suspicion of Falstaff 's being here ; for I 
never saw him so gross in his jealousy till 
now. 

Mrs. Page. I will lay a plot to try that ; and we 
will yet have more tricks with Falstaff : his 210 
dissolute disease will scarce obey this medi- 
cine. 

Mrs. Ford. Shall we send that foolish carrion. 
Mistress Quickty, to him, and excuse his 
throwing into the water; and give him an- 
73 



Act III. Sc. iii. MERRY WIVES 

other hope, to betray him to another punish- 
ment? 
Mrs. Page. We will do it: let him be sent for 
to-morrow, eight o'clock, to have amends. 

Re-enter Fordj, Page^ CaiuSj and Sir Hugh Evans. 

Ford. I cannot find him : may be the knave 220 
bragged of that he could not compass. 

Mrs. Page. lAside to Mrs. Ford] Heard you 
that? 

Mrs. Ford. You use me well, Master Ford, do 
you? 

Ford. Aye, I do so. 

Mrs. Ford. Heaven make you better than your 
thoughts ! 

Ford. Amen! 

Mrs. Page. You do yourself mighty wrong, 230 
Master Ford. 

Ford. Aye, aye ; I must bear it. 

Evans. If there be any pody in the house, and 
in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in 
the presses, heaven forgive my sins at the 
day of judgment! 

Caius. By gar, nor I too: there is no bodies. 

Page. Fie, fie, Master Ford! are you not 
ashamed? What spirit, what devil sug- 
gests this imagination? I would not ha' 240 
your distemper in this kind for the wealth of 
Windsor Castle. 

Ford. 'Tis my fault, Master Page : I suffer for 
it. 

Evans. You suffer for a pad conscience : your 
74 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. iii. 

wife is as honest a 'omans as I will desires 
among five thousand, and five hundred too. 

Caius. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman. 

Ford. Well, I promised jou a dinner. — Come 
come, walk in the park : I pray you, pardon 250 
me ; I will hereafter make known to you why 
I have done this. — Come, wife: come Mis- 
tress Page. — I pray you, pardon me; pray 
heartily pardon me. 

Page. Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, 
we '11 mock him. I do invite you to-mor- 
row morning to my house to breakfast : after, 
we '11 a-birding together ; I have a fine hawk 
for the bush. Shall it be so? 

Ford. Any thing. 260 

Evans. If there is one, I shall make two in the 
company. 

Cams. If there be one or two, I shall make-a the 
turd. 

Ford. Pray you, go. Master Page. 

Evans. I pray you now, remembrance to-mor- 
row on the lousy knave, mine host. 

Cains. Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart! 

Evans. A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his 
mockeries ! [Exeunt. 270 

258. "a -fine haiok for the bush." This would be one of the short- 
winged species, distinguished from the long-winged falcon used for 
the open country. — C. H. H. 

2Q5. "I pray you now," etc. Of this arrangement we hear no 
more. Mr. Daniel suggests that we have here "an indication of 
another underplot projected, and perhaps actually interwoven with 
it. . . . In Act iv. 5., after the Host has lost his horses, they 
are curiously officious in cautioning him against the thieves. Their 
threatened vengeance and the Host's loss were doubtless connected" 
(^Introduction to Quarto, 1602, p. ix.). — C. H. H. 
75 



Act III. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Scene IV 

'A room in Page's house. 
Enter Fenton and Anne Page. 

Fe7it. I see I cannot get thy father's love ; 

Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan. 

Anne. Alas, how then? 

Fent. Why, thou must be thyself. 

He doth object I am too great of birth; 
And that, my state being gall'd with my ex- 
pense, 
I seek to heal it only by his wealth: 
Besides these, other bars he lays before me, — 
My riots past, my wild societies; 
And tells me 'tis a thing impossible 
I should love thee but as a property. 10 

Anne. May be he tells you true. 

Fent. No, heaven so sj)eed me in my time to come ! 
Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth 
Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne: 
Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value 
Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags; 
And 'tis the very riches of thyself 

13. "thy father's wealth"; some light may be given to those who 
shall endeavor to calculate the increase of English wealth, by 
observing that Latimer, in the time of Edward VI mentions it as a 
proof of his father's prosperity, "that though but a yeoman, he 
gave his daughters five pounds each for their portion." At* the 
latter end of Elizabeth, seven hundred pounds were such a tempta- 
tion to courtship, as made all other motives suspected. Congreve 
makes twelve thousand pounds more than a counterbalance to. the 
affection of Belinda. No poet will now fly his favorite character at 
less than fifty thousand.— H. N. H. 
76 



OF WINDSOR Act in. Sc. iv. 

That now I aim at. 
Anne. Gentle Master Fenton, 

Yet seek my father's love ; still seek it, sir : 
If opportunity and humblest suit 20 

Cannot attain it, why, then, — hark you hither! 
[They converse apart. 

Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly, 

Shal. Break their talk, Mistress Quickly: my 

kinsman shall speak for himself. 
Slen. I '11 make a shaft or a bolt on 't : 'slid, 'tis 

but venturing. 
Shal. Be not dismayed. 
Slen. No, she shall not dismay me: I care not 

for that, but that I am a f card. 
Quick. Hark ye : Master Slender would speak a 

word with you. 30 

Anne. I come to him. [Aside.] This is my 
father's choice. 

O, what a world of vile ill-favor'd faults 

Looks handsome in three hundred pounds 
a-year ! 
Quick. And how does good Master Fenton? 

Pray you, a word with you. 
Shal. She 's coming ; to her, coz. O boy, thou 

hadst a father! 
Slen. I had a father. Mistress Anne; my uncle 

can tell you good jests of him." Pray you, 

uncle, tell Mistress Anne the jest, how my 40 

father stole two geese out of a pen, good 

uncle. 
Shal. Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you. 
77 



Act III. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Slen. Aye, that I do; as well as I love any 
woman in Gloucestershire. 

Shal. He will maintain you like a gentle- 
woman. 

Slen. Aye, that I will, come cut and long-tail, 
under the degree of a squire. 

Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty 50 
pounds jointure. 

Anne. Good Master Shallow, let him woo for 
himself. 

ShaL Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you • 
for that good comfort. She calls you, coz: 
I '11 leave you. 

Anne. Now, Master Slender, — 

Slen. Now, good Mistress Anne, — 

Anne. What is your will? 

Slen. My will! od 's heartlings, that 's a pretty 60 
jest indeed! I ne'er made my will yet, I 
thank heaven; I am not such a sickly crea- 
ture, I give heaven praise. 

Anne. I mean, Master Slender, what would you 
with me? 

Slen. Truly, for mine own part, I would little 
or nothing with you. Your father and my 
uncle hath made motions: if it be my luck, 
so; if not, happy man be his dole! They 
can tell you how things go better than I can : 
you may ask your father; here he comes. 

Enter Page and Mistress Page. 

Page. Now, Master Slender: love him, daugh- 
ter Anne. — 

78 



70 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. IV. 

Why, how now! what does Master Fenton here? 
You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house : 
I told you, sir, my daughter is disposed of. 
Fent. Nay, Master Page, be not impatient. 
Mrs. Page. Good Master Fenton, come not to 

my child. 
Page. She is no match for you. 
Fent, Sir, will you hear me? * 
Page. No, good Master Fenton. 

Come, Master Shallow; come, son Slender, 

in. 80 

Knowing my mind, you wrong me. Master 
Fenton. [Eoceunt Page^ Shal.ya^id Slen. 
Quick. Speak to Mistress Page. 
Fent. Good Mistress Page, for that I love your 
daughter 
In such a righteous fashion as I do. 
Perforce, against all checks, rebukes and man- 
ners, 
I must advance the colors of my love. 
And not retire : let me have your good will. 
Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool. 
Mrs. Page. I mean it not ; I seek you a better hus- 
band. 
Quick. That 's my master, master doctor. 90 

Anne. Alas, I had rather be set quick i' the 
earth. 
And bowl'd to death with turnips! 

93. "howled to death"; thus in Jonson's Bartholomew Fair: 
"Would I had been set in the ground, all but the head of me, and 
had my brains bowl'd at." — H. N. H. 



79 



Act III. Sc. Iv. MERRY WIVES 

Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not yourself. Good 
Master Fenton, 
I will not be your friend nor enemy: 
My daughter will I question how she loves you, 
And as I find her, so am I affected. 
Till then farewell, sir: she must needs go in; 
Her father will be angry. 

Fent. Farewell, gentle mistress: farewell. Nan. 

[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Anne. 

Quick. This is my doing now: 'Nay,' said 1,100 
'will you cast away your child on a fool, and 
a physician? Look on Master Fenton:' this 
is my doing. 

Fent. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to- 
night 
Give my sweet Nan this ring : there 's for 
thy pains. 

Quick. Now heaven send thee good fortune! 
[Eccit Fenton.'] A kind heart he hath: a 
woman would run through fire and water for 
such a kind heart. But yet I would my 
master had Mistress Anne; or I would Mas- HO 
ter Slender had her; or, in sooth, I would 
Master Fenton had her : I will do what I can 
for them all three; for so I have promised, 
and I '11 be as good as my word; but spe- 
ciously for Master Fenton. Well, I must 
of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from 
my two mistresses: what a beast am I to 
slack it ! [Exit. 

104. "once"; sometime. — H. N. H. 



80 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. V. 



Scene V 

A room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. 

Fal. Bardolph, I say, — 

Bat^d. Here, sir. 

Fal. Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast 
in 't. [Eojit Bard.l Have I lived to be 
carried in a basket, like a barrow of butch- 
er's offal, and to be thrown in the Thames? 
Well, if I be served such another trick, I '11 
have my brains ta'en out, and buttered, and 
give them to a dog for a new year's gift. 
The rogues slighted me into the river with as 10 
little remorse as they would have drowned 
a blind bitch's puppies, fifteen i' the litter: 

Sc. V. This scene has probably been put together out of two 
scenes, separated by a night's interval, in the original version. The 
opening lines (1-25) clearly belong to a scene following imme- 
diately upon FalstaflF's adventure in the buck-basket; while the visit 
of Mrs. Quickly takes place either the same evening or early the 
following morning. Mr. Daniel would alter her "good morrow" to 
"good even," and "this morning" (47) to "to-morrow morning." Mr. 
Wheatley suggests, as a simpler expedient, to alter "this morning" 
(]38) to "to-morrow morning." But in this case Falstaff need not 
hasten to his appointment, and his exit must be otherwise explained. 
— C. H. H. 

5. The reading of the Quartos is seemingly preferable: — "Have I 
lived to be carried in a basket, and thrown into the Thames like a 
barrow of butcher's offal." — I. G. 

10. "The rogues sU(/hted me hito ike river" i. e. "Threw me in 
contemptuously"; the Quartos read "slided me in."— I. G. 

.13. "blind fuppies"; sc in all the old copies, meaning, of course, 
a bitch's blind puppies. Falstaff was not in a state of mind to 
stand upon the niceties of grammar, and so he left his errors to be 
XXI— 6 81 



Act III. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

and you may know by my size that I have a 
kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom 
were as deep as hell, I should down. I had 
been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy 
and shallow, — a death that I abhor; for the 
water swells a man ; and what a thing should 
I have been when, I had been swelled! I 
should have been a mountain of mummy. 20 

Re-enter Bardolph with sack. 

Bard. Here 's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak 

with you. 
Fal. Come, let me pour in some sack to the 

Thames water ; for my belly 's as cold as if I 

had swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the 

reins. Call her in. 
Bard. Come in, woman. 

Enter Mrs. Quickly. 

Quick. By your leave; I cry you mercy; give 

your worship good morrow. 
Fed. Take away these chalices. Go brew me a 30 

pottle of sack finely. 
Bard. With eggs, sir? 
Fal. Simple of itself; I '11 no pullet-sperm in 

mybrewage. [Exit Bardolph.'] How now! 
Quick. Marry, sir, I come to your worship from 

Mistress Ford. 
Fal. Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough; 

corrected by modern editors; who, accordingly, have given what he 
meant, not what he said. — H. N. H. 

82 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. V. 

I was thrown into the ford; I have my belly 
full of ford. 

Quick. Alas the day; good heart, that was not 40 
her fault : she does so take on with her men ; 
they mistook their erection. 

Fal. So did I mine, to build upon a foolish 
woman's promise. 

Quick. Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it 
would yearn your heart to see it. Her hus- 
band goes this morning a-birding; she de- 
sires you once more to come to her between 
eight and nine: I must carry her word 
quickly : she '11 make you amends, I warrant 50 
you. 

Fal. Well, I will visit her : tell her so ; and bid 
her think what a man is : let her consider his 
frailty, and then judge of my merit. 

Quick. I will tell her. 

Fal. Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou? 

Quick. Eight and nine, sir. 

Fal. Well, be gone : I will not miss her. 

Quick. Peace be with you, sir. \_Exit. 

Fal. I marvel I hear not of Master Brook; he 60 
sent me word to stay within : I like his money 
well. — O, here he comes. 

Enter Ford. 

Ford. Bless you, sir ! 

Fal. Now, Master Brook, — you come to know 

what hath passed between me and Ford's 

wife ? 
Ford. That, indeed, Sir John, is my business. 

83 



Act III. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Fal. Master Brook, I will not lie to you : I was 
at her house the hour she appointed me. 

Ford. And sped you, sir? 70 

Fal. Very ill-favoredly. Master Brook. 

Ford. How so, sir? Did she change her deter- 
mination? 

Fal. No, Master Brook; but the peaking Cor- 
nuto her husband, Master Brook, dwelling in 
a continual 'larum of jealousy, comes me in 
the instant of our encounter, after we 
had embraced, kissed, protested, and, as it 
were, spoke the prologue of our comedy; 
and at his heels a rabble of his companions, 80 
thither provoked and instigated by his dis- 
temper, and, forsooth, to search his house for 
his wife's love. 

Ford. What, while you were there? 

Fal. While I was there. 

Ford. And did he search for j^ou, and could not 
find you? 

Fal. You shall hear. As good luck would have 
it, comes in one Mistress Page ; gives intelli- 
gence of Ford's approach; and, in her in- 90 
vention and Ford's wife's distraction, they 
conveyed me into a buck-basket. 

Ford. A buck-basket! 

Fal. By the Lord, a buck-basket ! — rammed me 
in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul 
stockings, greasy napkins; that, Master 
Brook, there was the rankest compound of 
villainous smell that ever offended nostril. 

Ford. And how long lay you there? 

84 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. v: 

Fal. Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what 1 100 
have suffered to bring this woman to evil 
for your good. Being thus crammed in the 
basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hands, 
were called forth by their mistress to carry 
me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet- 
lane: they took me on their shoulders; met 
the jealous knave their master in the door, 
who asked them once or twice what they had 
in their basket : I quaked for fear, lest the 
lunatic knave would have searched it; but HO 
fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held 
his hand. Well: on went he for a search, 
and away went I for foul clothes. But 
mark the sequel. Master Brook: I suffered 
the pangs of three several deaths; first, an 
intolerable fright, to be detected with a jeal- 
ous rotten bell-wether; next, to be com- 
passed, like a good bilbo, in the circumfer- 
ence of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; 
and then, to be stopped in, like a strong dis- 120 
tillation, with stinking clothes that fretted in 
their own grease: think of that, — a man of 
my kidney, — think of that, — that am as sub- 

116. "detected ivith"; with, by, and of, were used indiscriminately 
with much license by our ancestors. Thus in a subsequent passage 
of this play we have: "I sooner would suspect the sun vnth cold." 
Detected appears to have been used in the sense of suspected, 
impeached. Cavendish, in his Visions, has this very phrase: "What 
is he of our bloode that wold not be sory to heare our names with 
vile fame so detected." Detected must have the same meaning here, 
for Falstaff was not discovered, but suspected by the jealous Ford. 
Some modern editors have unwarrantably substituted by for with,-— 
H. N. H. 

121. "fretted"; rotted.— C. H. H. 
85 



Act III. Sc, V. MERRY WIVES 

ject to heat as butter; a man of continual 
dissolution and thaw: it was a miracle to 
'scape suffocation. And in the height of 
this bath, when I was more than half stewed 
in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into 
the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that 
surge, like a horse-shoe ; think of that, — 130 
hissing hot, — think of that. Master Brook. 

Ford. In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for 
my sake you have suffered all this. My suit, 
then, is desperate ; you 11 undertake her no 
more? 

Fat. Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, 
as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave 
her thus. Her husband is this morning 
gone a-birding : I have received from her an- 
other embassy of meeting ; 'twixt eight and 140 
nine is the hour, Master Brook. 

Ford. 'Tis past eight already, sir. 

Fal. Is it? I will then address me to my ap- 
pointment. Come to me at your convenient 
leisure, and you shall know how I speed ; and 
the conclusion shall be crowned with your 
enjoying her. Adieu. You shall have her. 
Master Brook; Master Brook, you shall 
cuckold Ford. [Exit. 

Ford. Hum! ha! is this a vison? is this a 150 
dream? do I sleep? Master Ford, awake! 
awake, Master Ford ! there 's a hole made in 
your best coat. Master Ford. This 'tis to be 
married! this 'tis to have linen and buck- 
baskets ! Well, I will proclaim myself what I 
- 8fi 



OF WINDSOR Act III. Sc. V. 

am: I will now take the lecher; he is at my 
house ; he cannot 'scape me ; 'tis impossible he 
should; he cannot creep into a half -penny 
purse, nor into a pepper-box: but, lest the 
devil that guides him should aid him, I will 160 
search impossible places. Though what I 
am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would 
not shall not make me tame : if I have horns 
to make one mad, let the proverb go with me, 
— I '11 be horn-mad. [Eojit. 

162. "to be what I would not"j the fact of my being what, etc. — 
C. H. H. 



87 



Act IV. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 



ACT FOURTH 

Scene I 

A street. 

Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Quickly, and Wil- 
Ham. 

Mrs. Page. Is he at Master Ford's already, 

think'st thou? 
Quick. Sure he is by this, or will be presently: 

but, truly, he is very courageous mad about 

his throwing into the water. Mistress Ford 

desires you to come suddenly. 
3Irs. Page. I '11 be with her by and by; I '11 

but bring my young man here to school. 

Look, where his master comes ; 'tis a playing- 

day, I see. 

Enter Sir Hugh Evans. 

How now. Sir Hugh! no school to-day? 

Evans. No ; Master Slender is let the boys leave 
to play. 

Quick. Blessing of his heart ! 

Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my husband says my son 
profits nothing in the world at his book. I 
pray you, ask him some questions in his acci- 
dence. 



10 



4. "courageous mad"; outrageous. — H. N. H. 

17. "questions m his accidence." The following questions are 

§8 



OF WINDSOR Act. IV. Sc. i. 

Evans. Come hither, William; hold up your 

head; come. 20 

Mrs. Page. Come on, sirrah; hold up your 

head ; answer your master, be not afraid. 
Evans. William, how many numbers is in nouns? 
Will. Two. 
Quick. Truly, I thought there had been one 

r^umber more, because they say, 'Od's nouns.' 
Evans. Peace your tattlings! What is 'fair,' 

William? 
Will. Pulcher. 
Quick. Polecats! there are fairer things than 30 

polecats, sure. 
Evans. You are a very simplicity 'oman: I 

pray you, peace. — What is 'lapis,' William? 
Will. A stone. 

Evans. And what is 'a stone,' William? 
W^ill. A pebble. 
Evans. No, it is 'lapis' : I pray you, remember 

in your prain. 
Will. Lapis. 
Evans. That is a good William. What is he, 40 

William, that does lend articles? 
Will. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and 

taken from Lily's Accidence, which had been in use since Henry 
Vlll's-time in all the English grammar-schools, and was therefore 
familiar to Shakespeare from his own school time. — C. H. H. 

41. "What is he that does lend articles?" etc. A similar play upon 
the definitions In Lily's Latin Grammar had been introduced into 
Lyly's Endymion (iii. 3.): — 

Toph. Alas, Epi, to tell thee a truth, I am a noun adjective. 

Epi. Why? 

Toph. Because I cannot stand without another, etc. — C. H. H. 



89 



^Act IV. Sc. i. MERRY WIVES 

be thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, 

hie, haec, hoc. 
Evans. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, 

mark: genitivo, hujus. Well, what is your 

accusative case? 
Will. Accusative, hinc. 
Evans. I pray you, have your remembrance, 

child; accusative, hung, hang, hog. 50 

Quick. 'Hang-hog' is Latin for bacon, I war- 
rant you. 
Evans. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. — What is 

the f ocative case, William ? 
Will. O, — vocativo, O. 

Evans. Remember, William; f ocative is caret. 
Quick. And that 's a good root. 
Evans. 'Oman, forbear. 
Mis. Page. Peace! 
Evans. What is your genitive case plural, 60 

William? 
Will. Genitive case! 
Evans. Aye. 

Will. Genitive, — horum, harum, horum. 
Quick. Vengeance of Jenny's case! fie on her! 

never name her, child, if she be a whore. 
Evans. For shame, 'oman. 
Quick. You do ill to teach the child such words : 

— he teaches him to hick and to hack, which 

51. "Hang-hog is Latin for bacon"; probably suggested by the 
famous story told of Sir Nicholas Bacon. A prisoner named Hog, 
who had been condemned to death, prayed for mercy on the score 
of kindred. "Ay but," replied the judge, "you and I cannot be of 
kindred unless you are hanged; for Hog is not Bacon till it be well 
hanged" (Bacon's Apophthegms). — I. G. 

90 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. a. 

they '11 do fast enough of themselves, and to 70 
call 'horum': — fie upon you! 

Evans. 'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no 
understandings for thy cases, and the num- 
bers of the genders? Thou art as foolish 
Christian creatures as I would desires. 

Mrs. Page. Prithee, hold thy peace. 

Evans. Show me now, William, some declen- 
sions of your pronouns. 

Will. Forsooth, I have forgot. 

Evans. It is qui, quse, quod : if you forget your 80 
'quies,' your 'quses/ and your 'quods,' you 
must be preeches. Go your ways, and play ; 
go. 

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar than I 
thought he was. 

Evans. He is a good sprag memory. Fare- 
well, Mistress Page. 

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. [Eaiit 
Sir Hugh.] Get you home, boy. Come, we 
stay too long. [Exeunt. 90 



Scene II 

A room in Ford's house. 

Enter Falstaff and Mistress Ford. 

Fal. Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up 
my suiFerance. I see you are obsequious in 

2. "you are obsequious"; so, in Hamlet: "To do obsequious sor- 
row." The epithet obsequies refers, in both instances, to the serious- 
ness with which obsequies are performed. — H. N. H. 

91 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

your love, and I profess requital to a hair's 
breadth; not only, Mistress Ford, in the sim- 
ple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, 
complement, and ceremony of it. But are 
you sure of your husband now? 

Mrs. Ford. He 's a-birding, sweet Sir John. 

Mrs. Page. [WithiTi] What, ho, gossip Ford! 
what, ho! 10 

Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber. Sir John. 

[Exit Falstaff. 

Enter Mistress Page. 

Mrs. Page. How now, sweetheart ! who 's at 
home besides yourself? 

Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people. 

Mrs. Page. Indeed! 

Mrs. Ford. No, certainly. [Aside to her^ 
Speak louder. 

Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have no- 
body here. 

Mrs. Ford. Why? 20 

Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in 
his old lunes again: he so takes on yonder 
with my husband ; so rails against all married 
mankind; so curses all Eve's daughters, of 
what complexion soever ; and so buffets him- 
self on the forehead, crying, 'Peer out, peer 
out!' that any madness I ever yet beheld 
seemed but tameness, civility, and patience, 

22, "Old lunes"; the Folios and third Quarto read "lines"; the 
first and second Quartos "vaine"; the correction is Theobald's; the 
same error occurs in Troilus and Cressida, II. ill. 139. — I. G. 
92 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. ii. 

to this his distemper he is in now : I am glad 
the fat knight is not here. 30 

Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him? 

Mrs. Page. Of none but him; and swears he 
was carried out, the last time he searched for 
him, in a basket; protests to my husband he 
is now here ; and hath drawn him and the rest 
of their company from their sport, to make 
another experiment of his suspicion: but I 
am glad the knight is not here ; now he shall 
see his own foolery. 

Mrs. Ford. How near is he, Mistress Page. 40 

Mrs. Page. Hard by, at street end; he will be 
here anon. 

Mrs. Ford. I am undone! — the knight is here. 

Mrs. Page. Why, then, you are utterly shamed, 
and he 's but a dead man. What a woman 
are you! — Away with him, away with him! 
better shame than murder. 

Mrs. Ford. Which way should he go? how 
should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the 
basket again? 50 

Re-enter Falstaff. 

Fal. No, I '11 come no more i' the basket. May 
I not go out ere he come ? 

Mrs. Page. Alas, three of Master Ford's broth- 
ers watch the door with pistols, that none 
shall issue out; otherwise you might slip 

54. "with pistols"; this is one of Shakespeare's anachronisms: he 
has also introduced pistols in Pericles, in the reign of Antiochus, two 
hundred years before Christ. — H, N. H. 
93 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

away ere he came. But what make you 
here? 

Fal. What shall I do? — I '11 creep up into the 
chimney. 

Mrs. Ford. There they always use to discharge 60 
their birding-pieces. Creep into the kiln- 
hole. 

Fal. Where is it? 

Mrs. Ford. He will seek there, on my word. 
Neither press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, 
vault, but he hath an abstract for the remem- 
brance of such places, and goes to them by 
his note : there is no hiding you in the house. 

Fal. I '11 go out, then. 

Mrs. Page. If you go out in your own sem- 70 
blance, you die, Sir John. Unless you go 
out disguised, — 

Mrs. Ford. How might we disguise him? 

Mrs. Page. Alas the day, I know not! There 
is no woman's gown big enough for him; 
otherwise he might put on a hat, a muffler, 
and a kerchief, and so escape. 

Fal. Good hearts, devise something: any ex- 
tremity rather than a mischief. 

Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt, the fat woman of 80 
Brentford, has a gown above. 

Mrs. Page. On my word, it will serve him; 
she 's as big as he is : and there 's her 
thrummed hat, and her muffler too. Run 
up. Sir John. 

Mrs. Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir John: Mistress 

94 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. ii. 

Page and I will look some linen for your 
head. 

Mrs. Page. Quick, quick! we '11 come dress you 
straight : put on the gown the while. 30 

[Exit Falstaff. 

Mrs. Ford. I would my husband would meet 
him in this shape: he cannot abide the old 
woman of Brentford; he swears she's a 
witch; forbade her my house, and hath 
threatened to beat her. 

M7S. Page. Heaven guide him to thy hus- 
band's cudgel, and the devil guide his cud- 
gel afterwards! 

Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming? 

Mrs. Page. Aye, in good sadness, is he ; and 100 
talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath 
had intelligence. 

Mrs. Ford. We'll try that; for I'll appoint 
my men to carry the basket again, to meet 
him at the door with it, as they did last time. 

Mrs. Page. Nay, but he '11 be here presently : 
let 's go dress him like the witch of Brent- 
ford. 

Mrs. Ford. I '11 first direct my men what they 
shall do with the basket. Go up; I '11 bring HO 
linen for him straight. [Eccit. 

87. "look"; look for.— C. H. H. 

107. "The witch of Brentford"; an actual personage of the six- 
teenth century. A tract is extant entitled "Jyl of Breyntford's 
Testament," whence it appears that the witch kept a tavern at 
Brentford; in Dekker & Webster's Westicard Ho the following allu- 
sion is found: — "I doubt that old hag Gillian of Brainford has be- 
witched me." — I. G. 

95 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest varlet! we 
cannot misuse him enough. 
We '11 leave a proof, by that which we will do, 
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too : 
We do not act that often jest and laugh ; 
'Tis old, but true, — Still swine eats all the draif . 

Re-enter Mistress Ford with two Servants. 

Mrs. Ford. Go, sirs, take the basket again on 
your shoulders : j^our master is hard at door ; 
if he bid you set it down, obey him : quickly 120 
dispatch. [Exit. 

First Serv. Come, come, take it up. 

Sec. Serv. Pray heaven it be not full of knight 
again. 

First Serv. I hope not; I had as lief bear so 
much lead. 

Enter Ford^ Page^ Shallow^ Caius, and Sir Hugh 
Evans. 

Ford. Aye, but if it prove true. Master Page, 
have you any way then to unfool me again? v 
Set down the basket, villain! Somebody 
call my wife. Youth in a basket ! — O you 130 
pandarly rascals ! there 's a knot, a ging, a 
pack, a conspiracy against me : now shall the 
devil be shamed. — What, wife, I say! — - 
Come, come forth! Behold what honest 
clothes you send forth to bleaching ! 

Page. Why, this passes. Master Ford; you are 

116. "act"; do in reality what we jestingly feign to do, — C. H, H. 

96 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. ii. 

not to go loose any longer; you must be 
pinioned. 

Evans. Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a 
mad dog! 140 

Shal. Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, in- 
deed. 

FoJ'd. So say I too, sir. 

Re-enter Mistress Ford. 

Come hither, Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford, 
the honest woman, the modest wife, the vir- 
tuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to 
her husband ! I suspect without cause, mis- 
tress, do I? 

Mrs. Ford. Heaven be my witness you do, if 
you suspect me in any dishonesty. 150 

Ford. Well said, brazen- face! hold it out. 
Come forth, sirrah! 

[Pulling clothes out of the basket. 

Page. This passes! 

Mrs. Ford. Are you not ashamed? let the 
clothes alone. 

Ford. I shall find you anon. 

Evaris. 'Tis unreasonable! Will you take up 
your wife's clothes? Come away. 

Ford. Empty the basket, I say! 

Mrs. Ford. Why, man, why? , 160 

Ford. Master Page, as I am a man, there was 
one conveyed out of my house yest'^^rday in 
this basket: why may not he be there again? 
In my house I am sure he is : my intelligence 



XXI— 7 



97 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

is true; my jealousy is reasonable. Pluck 
me out all the linen. 

Mrs. Ford, If you find a man there, he shall die 
a flea's death. 

Page. Here 's no man. 

Shal. By my fidelity, this is not well. Master 170 
Ford; this wrongs you. 

Evans. Master Ford, you must pray, and not 
follow the imaginations of your own heart: 
this is jealousies. 

Ford. Well, he 's not here I seek for. 

Page. No, nor nowhere else but in your brain. 

Ford. Help to search my house this one time. 
If I find not what I seek, show no color for 
my extremity ; let me for ever be your table- 
sport; let them say of me, 'As jealous as 180 
Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his 
wife's leman.' Satisfy me once more; once 
more search with me. 

Mrs. Ford. What, ho, Mistress Page! come 
you and the old woman down ; my husband 
will come into the chamber. 

Ford. Old woman! what old woman 's that? 

Mrs. Ford. Why, it is my maid's aunt of 
Brentford. 

Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! 190 
Have I not forbid her my house? She 
comes of errands, does she? We are simple 
men ; we do not know what 's brought to pass 
under the profession of fortune-telling. 

178. "show no color for my extremity"; offer no excuse for the 
extreme course I take. — C. H. H. 
98 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. ii. 

She works by charms, by spells, by the fig- 
ure, and such daubery as this is, beyond our 
element: we know nothing. Come down, 
you witch, you hag, you ; come down, I say ! 
Mrs. Ford. Nay, good, sweet husband! — Good 
gentlemen, let him not strike the old woman. 200 

Re-enter Falstaff in woman's clothes, and Mistress 
Page. 

Mrs. Page. Come, Mother Prat ; come, give me 
your hand. 

Ford. I '11 prat her. [Beating him] Out of 
my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, 
you polecat, you ronyon! out, out! I '11 con- 
jure you, I '11 fortune-tell you. [Ecvit Falstaff, 

Mrs. Page. Are you not ashamed? I think you 
have killed the poor woman. 

Mrs. Ford. Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly 
credit for you. 210 

Ford. Hang her, witch! 

Evans. By yea and no, I think the 'oman is a 
witch indeed : I like not when a 'oman has a 
great peard; I spy a great peard under his 
muffler. 

Ford. Will you follow, gentlemen? I be- 
seech you, follow; see but the issue of my 
jealousy: if I cry out thus upon no trail, 
never trust me when I open again. 

218. "cry out thus"; expressions taken from the chase. Trail is 
the scent left by the passage of the game. To cry out is to open, or 
bark.—H. N. H, 



•^9 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

Page. Let's obey his humor a httle further: 220 
come, gentlemen. 
[Exeunt Ford, Page, Shal., Caius, and Evans. 

Mrs. Page. Trust me, he beat him most Diti- 
fully. 

3Irs. Ford. Nay, by the mass, that he did not ; 
he beat him most unpitifully methought. 

3Irs. Page. I '11 have the cudgel hallowed and 
hung o'er the altar ; it hath done meritorious 
service. 

Mrs. Ford. What think you? may we, with the 
warrant of womanhood and the witness of a 230 
good conscience, pursue him with any fur- 
ther revenge ? 

M?s. Page. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, 
scared out of him : if the devil have him not 
in fee-simple, with fine and recovery, he will 
never, I think, in the way of wasted attempt 
us again. 

3Irs. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how we 
have served him? 

Mrs. Page. Yes, by all means ; if it be but to 240 
scrape the figures out of your husband's 
brains. If they can find in their hearts the 
poor unvirtuous fat knight shall be any fur- 
ther afflicted, we two will still be the minis- 
ters. 

Mrs. Ford. I '11 warrant they '11 have him pub- 
licly shamed: and methinks there would be 
no period to the jest, should he not be pub- 
licly shamed. 

241. "figures"; fancies, whimsies. — C. H. H. 
3 00 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. iv. 

3Irs. Page. Come, to the forge with it, then ; 250 
shape it: I would not have things cool. 

[Eoceunt. 

Scene III 

A room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Host and Bardolph. 

Bard. Sir, the Germans desire to have three of 
your horses: the duke himself Avill be to- 
morrow at court, and they are going to meet 
him. 

Host. What duke should that be comes so se- 
cretly? I hear not of him in the court. Let 
me speak with the gentlemen: they speak 
Enghsh? 

Bard. Aye, sir ; I '11 call them to you. 

Host. They shall have my horses; but I '11 10 
make them pay; I '11 sauce them: they have 
had my house a week at command ; I have 
turned away my other guests: they must 
come off ; I '11 sauce them. Come. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV 

A room iii Ford's house. 

Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, 
and Sir Hugh Evans. 

Evans. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a 
'oman as ever I did look upon. 

101 



Act IV. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

Page. And did he send you both these letters at 
an instant ? 

Mrs. Page. Within a quarter of an hour. 

Ford. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what 
thou wilt; 
I rather will suspect the sun with cold 
Than thee with wantonness: now doth thy 

honor stand, 
In him that was of late an heretic. 
As firm as faith. 

Page. 'Tis well, 'tis well; no more: 10 

Be not as extreme in submission 
As in offense. 

But let our plot go forward: let our wives 
Yet once again, to make us public sport. 
Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow, 
Where we may take him, and disgrace him for 
it. 

Ford. There is no better way than that they spoke 
of. 

Page. How? to send him word they '11 meet him 
in the Park at midnight? Fie, fie! he'll 
never come. 20 

Evans. You say he has been thrown in the 
rivers, and has been grievously peaten, as an 
old 'oman: methinks there should be terrors 
in him that he should not come ; methinks his 
flesh is punished, he shall have no desires. 

Page. So think I too. 

7. "suspect the sun of cold"; the reading in the text is Mr. Howe's. 
The old copies read, "I rather will . suspect the sun with gold." — 
H. N. H. 

102 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. iv. 

Mrs. Ford. Devise but how you '11 use him when 
he comes, 
And let us two devise to bring him thither. , 
Mrs. Page. There is an old tale goes that Heme 
the hunter, 
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, 30 
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight. 
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd 

horns ; 
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle. 
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a 

chain 
In a most hideous and dreadful manner : 
You have heard of such a spirit; and well you 

know 
The superstitious idle-headed eld 
Received, and did deliver to our age. 
This tale of Heme the hunter for a truth. 39 
Page. Why, yet there want not many that do fear 
In deep of night to walk by this Heme's oak: 
But what of this? 
Mrs. Ford. Marry, this is our device; 

That FalstafF at that oak shall meet with us. 
Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he '11 come : 

29. "Heme the Hunter." The present passage is the source of 
practically all that is known of this legend. — C. H. H. 

41. "this Heme's oak"; the tree which was by tradition shown as 
Heme's oak, being totally decayed, was cut down by order of 
George III in 1795.— H. N. H. 

43. "That Falstaf at that oak shall meet ivith us." After this 
line the following words from the Quartos have been added in many 
editions: — 

"We'll send him word to meet us in the field. 
Disguised like Home with huge horns on his head." — I. G. 
5e 103 



Act iv. Sc. iv. MERRY WIVES 

And in this shape when you have brought him 

thither, 
What shall be done with him? what is your plot? 
Mrs. Page, That likewise have we thought upon, 

and thus : 
Nan Page my daughter and my little son 
And three or four more of their growth we '11 

dress 
Like urchins, ouphes and fairies, green and 

white, 50 

With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads, 
And rattles in their hands : upon a sudden, 
As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met. 
Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once 
With some diffused song : upon their sight. 
We two in great amazedness will fly : 
Then let them all encircle him about. 
And, fairy-like, to pinch the unclean knight; 
And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel. 
In their so sacred paths he dares to tread 60 
In shape profane. 
Mrs. Ford. And till he tell the truth, 

Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound, 
And burn him with their tapers. 
Mrs. Page. The truth being known. 

We '11 all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit. 
And mock him home to Windsor. 

62, "To finch"; probably the correct reading should be "to-pinch," 
where "to" is the intensitive prefix so common in old English, 
though it is possible to explain it as the ordinaiy infinitive prefix, 
omitted in the case of the former verb in the sentence. — I. G. 

62. "sound," for soundly, the adjective used as an adverb. — H. 
N.H. 

104 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. iv. 

Ford. The children must 

Be practiced well to this, or they '11 ne'er do 't. 
Evans. I will teach the children their behav- 
iors; and I will be like a jack-an-apes also, to 
burn the knight with my taber. 
Ford, That will be excellent. I '11 go buy them 70 

vizards. 
Mrs. Page. My Nan shall be the queen of all the 
fairies, 
Finely attired in a robe of white. 
Page. That silk will I go buy. [Aside~\ And in 
that time 
Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away, 
And marry her at Eton. Go send to Falstaif 
straight. 
Ford. Nay, I '11 to him again in name of Brook: 

He '11 tell me all his purpose : sure, he '11 come. 
Mrs. Page. Fear not you that. Go get us prop- 
erties 
And tricking for our fairies, 80 

Evans. Let us about it: it is admirable pleas- 
ures and f ery honest knaveries. 

[Exeunt Page^ Ford, and Evans. 
Mrs. Page, Go, Mistress Ford, 

Send quickly to Sir John, to know his mind. 

[Exit Mrs. Ford. 
I '11 to the doctor: he hath my good will. 
And none but he, to marry with Nan Page. 

80. "tricking"; dresses. Pyrrhus, in Ham. ii. 2. 497, is said to be 
"horridly trick'd with blood of fathers, mothers," etc. — C. H. H. 

84. "Send quickly to Sir John." Theobald ingeniously suggested 
"Quickly" for "quickly."— I. G. 

105 



Act IV. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot ; 
And he my husband best of all affects. 
The doctor is well money'd, and his friends 
Potent at court : he, none but he, shall have her, 
Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave 
her. [Eccit, 92 

Scene V 

'A room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Host and Simple. 

Host. What wouldst thou have, boor? what, 
thick-skin? speak, breathe, discuss; brief, 
short, quick, snap. 

Sim. Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John 
Falstaff from Master Slender. 

Host. There 's his chamber, his house, his cas- 
tle, his standing-bed, and truckle-bed ; 'tis 
painted about with the story of the Prodigal, 
fresh and new. Go knock and call ; he '11 
speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee : 10 
knock, I say. 

Sim. There 's an old woman, a fat woman, gone 
up into his chamber : I '11 be so bold as stay, 
sir, till she come down ; I come to speak with 
her, indeed. 

8. "story of the Prodigal"; the Prodigal Son was a favorite sub- 
ject for the tapestry or other wall-decoration of a room. Similarly 
in ^ Hen, IV Falstaff assures the Hostess that "for thy walls, a 
pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German 
hunting in w£^ter-work," is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings. 
— Ct H- H, 

106 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. v. 

Host. Ha! a fat woman! the knight may be 
robbed: I '11 call.— Bully knight! Bully Sir 
John! speak from thy lungs military: art 
thou there? it is thine host, thine Ephesian, 
calls. 20 

Fal. lAbovel How now, mine host ! 

Host. Here 's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the 
coming down of thy fat woman. Let her 
descend, bully, let her descend*; my cham- 
bers are honorable: fie! privacy? fie! 

Enter Falstaff. 

Fal. There was, mine host, an old fat woman 
even now with me ; but she 's gone. 

Sim. Pray you, sir, was 't not the wise woman 
of Brentford? 

Fal. Aye, marry, was it, muscle-shell: what 30 
would you with her ? 

Sim. My master, sir. Master Slender, sent to 
her, seeing her go thorough the streets, to 
know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that be- 
guiled him of a chain, had the chain or no. 

Fal. I spake with the old woman about it. 

Sim. And what says she, I pray, sir? 

Fal. Marry, she says that the very same man 
that beguiled Master Slender of his chain 
cozened him of it. 40 

Sim. I would I could have spoken with the 

28. "wise woman of Brentford"; Scott in his Discovery of Witch- 
craft says: "At this day it is indiflferent in the English tongue to 
say, She is a witch, or. She is a loise-icoman" — H. N. H, 



107 



Act IV. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

woman herself ; I had other things to have 

spoken with her too from him. 
Fal. What are they? let us know? 
Host. Aye, come; quick. 
Sim. I may not conceal them, sir. 
Host. Conceal them, or thou diest. 
Sim. Why, sir, they were nothing but about 

Mistress Anne Page ; to know if it were my 

master's fortune to have her or no. 50 

Fal. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune. 
Sim. What, sir? 
Fal. To have her, or no. Go; say the woman 

told me so. 
Sim. May I be bold to say so, sir? 
Fal. Aye, sir; like who more bold. 
Sim. I thank your worship: I shall make my 

master glad with these tidings. [Exit. 

Host. Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir 

John. Was there a wise woman with thee? 60 
Fal. Aye, that there was, mine host; one that 

hath taught me more wit than ever I learned 

before in my life ; and I paid nothing for it 

neither, but was paid for my learning. 

Enter Bardolph. 

Bard. Out, alas, sir! cozenage, mere cozenage! 
Host. Where be my horses? speak well of them, 

varletto. 
Bard. Run away with the cozeners : for so soon 

46. "conceal"; the "muscle-shell" means reveal. — H. N. H. 
55. "like who more bold"; like the boldest. — C. H. H. 
59. "clerkly"; that is, scholar-like. — H. N. H. 
108 



OF WINDSOR Act IV jc. V. 



70 



as I came beyond Eton, they threw me off, 
from behind one of them, in a slough of 
mire ; and set spurs and away, Hke three Ger- 
man devils, three Doctor Faustuses. 
Host. They are gone but to meet the duke, vil- 
lain: do not say they be fled; Germans are 
honest men. 

Enter Sir Hugh Evans, 

Evans. Where is mine host ? 

Host. What is the matter, sir? 

Evans. Have a care of your entertainments: 
there is a friend of mine come to town, tells 
me there is three cozen-germans that has coz- 80 
ened all the hosts of Readins, of Maiden- 
head, of Colebrook, of horses and monej^ I 
tell you for good will, look you : you are wise, 
and full of gibes and vlouting-stocks, and 

80. "Cozen-germans"; the first Quarto 



"For there is three sorts of cosen garmombles, 
Is cosen ail the Host of Maidenhead and Readings," 

where "garmombles" is very possibly a perversion of Mompelgard; 
Count Frederick of Mompelgard visited Windsor in 1593; free post- 
horses were granted him by a passport of Lord Howard. 

The Count became a "Duke of Jamany" (Wirtemberg) in 1593; 
considerable interest must have been taken in the Duke about 1598. 
A letter to the Queen, dated August 14, 1598, is extant, in which 
the following passage occurs: — "I have heard with extreme regret 
that some of my enemies endeavour to calumniate me and prejudice 
your majesty against me. I have given them no occasion for this. 
I hope that when your majesty has discovered this report to De 
false, you will have greater reason to continue your affection 
towards me, and give neither faith nor credit to such vipers." In 
the year 1603 appeared "An Account of the Duke's Bathing Ex- 
cursion to the far-famed Kingdom of England" vide Rye's England 
as seen by Foreigners). — I. G, 

109 



Act IV. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

'tis hot convenient you should be cozened. 
Fare you well. [Eccit 

Enter Doctor Caius. 

Caius. Vere is mine host de Jarteer? 

Host. Here, master doctor, in perplexity and 
doubtful dilemma. 

Caius. I cannot tell vat is dat : but it is tell-a me 90 
dat you make grand preparation for a duke 
de Jamany : by my trot, dere is no duke dat 
the court is know to come. I tell you for 
good vill : adieu. lE{rit. 

Host. Hue and cry, villain, go! — Assist me, 
knight. — I am undone! — Fly, run, hue and 
cry, villain !— I am undone ! 

[Exeunt Host and Bard. 

Fat. I would all the world might be cozened; 
for I have been cozened and beaten too. If 
it should come to the ear of the court, how 1 100 
have been transformed, and how my trans- 
formation hath been washed and cudgeled, 
they would melt me out of my fat drop by 
drop, and liquor fishermen's boots with me: 
I warrant they would whip me with their 
fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried 
pear. I never prospered since I forswore 
myself at primero. Well, if my wind were 
but long enough to say my prayers, I would 
repent. 110 

Enter Mistress Quickly, 

Now; whence come you? 
no 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. V. 

Quick. From the two parties, forsooth. 

Fal. The devil take one party, and his dam the 
other! and so they shall be both bestowed. 
I have suffered more for their sakes, more 
than the villainous inconstancy of man's 
disposition is able to bear. 

Quick. And have not they suffered? Yes, I 
warrant; speciously one of them; Mistress 
Ford, good heart, is beaten black and blue, 
that you cannot see a white spot about her. 

Fal What tell'st thou me of black and blue? 120 
I was beaten myself into all colors of the 
rainbow; and I was like to be apprehended 
for the witch of Brentford : but that my ad- 
mirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting 
the action of an old woman, delivered me, 
the knave constable had set me i' the stocks, 
i' the common stocks, for a witch. 

Quick. Sir, let me speak with you in your cham- 130 
her: you shall hear how things go; and, I 
warrant, to your content. Here is a letter 
will say somewhat. Good hearts, what ado 
here is to bring you together! Sure, one 
of you does not serve heaven well, that you 
are so crossed. 

Fal. Come up into my chamber. [Exeunt. 

127. "of an old woman"; i. e. of an ordinary old woman, too 
innocent and harmless for a witch. — C. H. H. 



Ill 



Act IV. Sc. vi. MERRY WIVES 



Scene VI 

The same. Another room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Fenton and Host. 

Host. Master Fenton, talk not to me ; my mind 
is heavy: I will give over all. 

Fent. Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my pur- 
pose, 
And, as I am a gentleman, I '11 give thee 
A hundred pound in gold more than your loss. 

Host. I will hear you. Master Fenton; and I 
will at the least keep your counsel. 

Fent. From time to time I have acquainted you 
With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page ; 
Who mutually hath answer'd my affection, 10 
So far forth as herself might be her chooser, 
Even to my wish : I have a letter from her 
Of such contents as you will wonder at; 
The mirth whereof so larded with my matter, 
That neither singly can be manifested, 
Without the show of both ; fat Falstaff 
Hath a great scene: the image of the jest 
I '11 show you here at large. Hark, good mine 

host. 
To-night at Heme's oak, just 'twixt twelve and 
one, 19 

Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen; 
The purpose why, is here : in which disguise, 

21. "The purpose why, is here"; in the letter. — H. N. H. 
112 



OF WINDSOR Act IV. Sc. 7i 

While other jests are something rank on foot, 

Her father hath commanded her to shp 

Away with Slender, and with him at Eton 

Immediately to marry : she hath consented : 

Now, sir, 

Her mother, even strong against that match, 

And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appomted 

That he shall likewise shuffle her away. 

While other sports are tasking of their minds. 

And at the deanery, where a priest attends, ^1. 

Straight marry her : to this her mother's plot 

She seemingly obedient likewise hath 

Made promise to the doctor. Now, thus it 

rests : 
Her father means she shall be all in white ; 
And in that habit, when Slender sees his time 
To take her by the hand and bid her go. 
She shall go with him: her mother hath in- 
tended, 
The better to denote her to the doctor, — 
For they must all be mask'd and vizarded, — 40 
That quaint in green she shall be loose enrobed. 
With ribands pendent, flaring 'bout her head ; 
And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe. 
To pinch her by the hand, and, on that token. 
The maid hath given consent to go with him. 

Host. Which means she to deceive, father or 
mother? "^ 

Fent. Both, my good host, to go along with me : 

41. "Quaint," here, may mean neatly, or elegantly, which were 
ancient acceptations of the word, and not fantastically: but either 
sense will suit. — H. N. H. 

XXI— 8 ]I1?», 



kct IV. Sc. vi. MERRY WIVES 

And here it rests, — that you '11 procure the vicar 
To stay for me at church 'twixt twelve and one, 
And, in the lawful name of marrjdng, 50 

To give our hearts united ceremony. 

Host. Well, husband your device ; I '11 to the vicar : 
Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest. 

Fent. So shall I evermore be bound to thee ; 
Besides, I '11 make a present recompense. 

[Eojeunt, 

52. "husband"; manage. — C. H. H. ' 



114 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. i. 



ACT FIFTH 

Scene I 

'A room in the Garter Inn. 
Enter Falstaff and Mistress Quickly. 

Fal. Prithee, no more prattling ; go. I '11 hold. 
This is the third time ; I hope good luck lies 
in odd numbers. Away! go. They say 
there is divinity in odd numbers, either in na- 
tivity, chance, or death. Away! 

Quick. I '11 provide you a chain; and I '11 do 
what I can to get you a pair of horns. 

Fal. Away, I say; time wears: hold up your 
head and mince. [Ewit Mrs. Quickly. 

Enter Ford. 

How now, Master Brook ! Master Brook, the 10 
matter will be known to-night, or never. Be 
you in the Park about midnight, at Heme's 
oak, and you shall see wonders. 

Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as 
you told me you had appointed? 

Fal. I went to her. Master Brook, as you see, 

1. "hold"; keep to the time. — H. N. H. 

9. "and mince"; that is, walk: to mince signified to walk with 
aflfected delicacy.— H. N. H. 

115 



Act V. Sc. ii. MERRY WIVES 

like a poor old man: but I came from her, 
Master Brook, like a poor old woman. That 
same knave Ford, her husband, hath the 
finest mad devil of jealousy in him, Master 20 
Brook, that ever governed frenzy. I will 
tell you: — ^he beat me grievously, in the 
shape of a woman ; for in the shape of man. 
Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a 
weaver's beam; because I know also life is 
a shuttle. I am in haste; go along with 
me: I '11 tell you all. Master Brook. Since 
I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped 
top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten till 
lately. Follow me : I '11 tell you strange 30 
things of this knave Ford, on whom to-night 
I will be revenged, and I will deliver his 
wife into your hand. Follow. Strange 
things in hand. Master Brook! Follow. 

[Eojeunt. 



Scene II 

Windsor Park. 

Enter Page^ Shallow, and Slender. 

Page. Come, come ; we '11 couch i' the castle- 
ditch till we see the light of our fairies. 
Remember, son Slender, my daughter. 

26. "life is a shuttle"; an allusion to the Book of Job, c. vii. v. 6. 
"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle." — H. N. H. 

28. "plucked geese"; to strip a living goose of its feathers was 
formerly an act of puerile barbarity. — H. N. H. 

116 



OF WINDSOR AH V. Sc. iii. 

Slen. Aye, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and 
we have a nay-word how to know one an- 
other; I come to her in white, and cry, 
'mum;' she cries 'budget;' and bj^ that we 
know one another. 

Shal. That 's good too : but what needs either 
your 'mum' or her 'budget?' the white will 10 
decipher her well enough. It hath struck 
ten o'clock. 

Page. The night is dark; light and spirits will 
become it well. Heaven prosper our sport! 
No man means evil but the devil, and we 
shall know him by his horns. Let 's away ; 
follow me. [Exeunt. 



Scene III 

A street leading to the Park. 

Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Doctor 
Caius. 

Mrs. Page. Master Doctor, my daughter is in 
green : when you see your time, take her by 
the hand, away with her to the deanery, and 
dispatch it quickly. Go before into the 
Park: we two must go together. 

Caius. I know vat I have to do. Adieu. 

3Irs. Page. Fare you well, sir. [Emt Cains.'] 
My husband will not rejoice so much at the 

15. "No man means evil hut the devil"; Page indirectly alludes to 
Falstatf, who was to have horns on his head. — H, N. H, 



Act V. Sc. ir. MERRY WIVES 

abuse of Falstaff as he will chafe at the doc- 
tor's marrying my daughter: but 'tis no 10 
matter; better a little chiding than a great 
deal of heart-break. 

Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now and her troop 
of fairies, and the Welsh devil Hugh? 

Mrs. Page. They are couched in a pit hard by 
Heme's oak, with obscured lights ; which, at 
the very instant of Falstaff 's and our meet- 
ing, they will at once display to the night. 

M7S. Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him. 

Mrs. Page. If he be not amazed, he will be 20 
mocked; if he be amazed, he will every way 
be mocked. 

Mrs. Ford. We 'U betray him finely. 

Mrs. Page. Against such lewdsters and their lech- 
ery 
Those that betray them do no treachery. 

Mrs. Ford. The hour draws on. To the oak, 
to the oak I [Exeunt. 



Scene IV 

Windsor Park. 

Enter Sir Hugh Evans disguised^ with others as 
Fairies. 

Evans. Trib, trib, fairies ; come ; and remember 
your parts : be pold. I pray you ; follow me 
into the pit; and v^^hen I give the watch- 
'ords, do as I pid ycu: come, come; trib trib. 

[Exeunt, 

118 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. V. 

Scene V 

^Another part of the Park, 

Enter Falstaff disguised as Heme. 

Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the 
minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded 
gods assist me ! Remember, Jove, thou wast 
a bull for thy Europa ; love set on thy horns. 
O powerful love! that, in some respects, 
makes a beast a man ; in some other, a man a 
beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan for 
the love of Leda. O omnipotent Love ! how 
near the god drew to the complexion of a 
goose! A fault done first in the form of a 10 
beast ; — O Jove, a beastly fault ! And then 
another fault in the semblance of a fowl; — 
think on 't, Jove ; a foul fault ! When gods 
have hot backs, what shall poor men do? 
For me, I am here a Windsor stag ; and the 
fattest, I think, i' the forest. Send me a 
cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to 
piss my tallow? — Who comes here? my doe? 

Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page. 

Mrs. Ford. Sir John! art thou there, my deer? 

my male deer? 20 

Fal. My doe with the black scut! Let the sky 

rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of 

23. "rain potatoes"; the sweet potato was used in England as a 
delicacy long before the introduction of the common potato by Sir 
Walter Raleigh in 1586. It was imported in considerable quantities 

119 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Green Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits, arid 
snow eringoes; let there come a tempest of 
provocation, I will shelter me here. 

Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page is come with me, 
sweetheart. 

Fal. Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: 
I will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders 
for the fellow of this walk, and my horns I 30 
bequeath your husbands. Am I a woodman, 
ha? Speak I like Heme the hunter? 
Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience ; he 
makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, 
welcome! INoise within. 

Mrs. Page. Alas, what noise? 

Mrs. Ford. Heaven forgive our sins! 

Fal. What should this be? 

Mrs. Ford.l . , j-mi. jv 

Mrs. Pa^^.J ^^^' ^^^^ \They run off. 

Fal. I think the devil v/ill not have me damned, 40 
lest the oil that 's in me should set hell on 
fire; he would never else cross me thus. 

Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before; Pis- 
tol, as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne 
Page, and others, as Fairies, with tapers. 

from Spain and the Canaries, and was supposed to possess the 
power of restoring decayed vigor. The kissing-comfits were prin- 
cipally made of these and eringo roots, and were perfumed to make 
the breath sweet. Gerarde attributes the same virtues to the com- 
mon potato, which he distinguishes as the Virginian sort. — H. N. H. 

57. "Bribe buck"; the Folios read "brib'd buck," which is probably 
the right reading: "a bribed buck" was a buck cut up into portions, 
(Old French fe?-!6es ="portions of meat to be given away"). — I. G. 

30. "the fellow of this walk"; the keeper. The shoulders of the 
buck were among his perquisites. — H. N. H. 
120 



OF WINDSOR . Act V. Sc. V. 

Quick. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, 
You moonshine revelers, and shades of night. 
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny. 
Attend your office and your quality. 
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. 

Pist. Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys. 
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap: 
Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths 
unswept, 50 

There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry : 
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery. 

%5. "Orphan heirs." Theobald suggested "ouphen" (elvish) for 
"orphan," and he has been followed by many editors, but the change 
is unnecessary. Cp. "unfather'd heirs" II Henry IV, IV, iv. 122. — 
I. G. 

Warburton reads ouphen, and not without plausibility; ouphes 
being mentioned before and afterwai-d. Malone thinks it means 
mortals by birth, but adopted by the fairies; orphans in respect of 
their real parents, and now only dependent on destiny herself. — 
Singer. 

We cannot help thinking that ouphen is the true word; the mean- 
ing being, "fairy children, who execute the decrees of destiny." — 
H. N. H. 

46. "quality"; profession. — H. N. H. 

48. "Toys," evidently to be read "toyes," rhyming with "0-yes" in 
the previous line; similarly "unswept" should probably be "unswep" 
rhyming with "leap." — I. G. 

52. "sluttery"; this office of the ancient fairies appears to have 
been quite a favorite theme with poets. Thus in Drayton's Nymph- 
idia : 

"These make our girls their sluttery rue. 
By pinching them both black and blue. 
And put a penny in their shoe. 
The house for cleanly sweeping." 

So also in an old ballad entitled The Merry Pranks of Bobin Good- 
fellow, sometimes attributed to Ben Jonson: 

"When house and harth doth sluttish lye, 
I pinch the maidens black and blue; 
The bed-clothes fror" the bedd pull I, 
And lay them naked all to view." 
121 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Fal. They are fairies ; he that speaks to thera shall 

die: 
I '11 wink and couch: no man their works must 

eye. [Lies down upon his face. 

Evans. Where's Bede? Go you, and where you 

find a maid 
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said. 
Raise up the organs of her fantasy ; 
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy: 
But those as sleep and think not on their sins, 
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides 

and shins. 60 

Quick. About, about; 

Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out: 
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room 
That it may stand till the perpetual doom, 
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit, 
Worthy the owner, and the owner it. 

And again in the ancient song of the Fairy Queen: 
"And, if the house be foul 

With platter, dish, or bowl, 

Up stairs we nimbly creep, 

And find the sluts asleep: 
There we pinch their arms and thighes; 
None escapes, nor none espies. 

But if the house be swept. 

And from uncleanness kept. 

We praise the household maid, 

And duely she is paid: 
For we use before we goe 
To drop a tester in her shoe." 

It were a curious inquiry, what this superstition had to do, as 
cause or effect, with the well-known cleanliness of the English peo- 
ple.— H. N. H. 

57. "her fantasy"; that is, elevate her fancy, and amuse her 
tranquil mind with some delightful vision, though she sleep as 
soundly as an infant. — H. N. H. 

122 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. V. 

The several chairs of order look you scour 
With juice of balm and every precious flower: 
Each fair installment, coat, and several crest, 
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest! 70 

And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing, 
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring: 
Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be, 
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see; 
And Honi soit qui mat y pense write 
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and 

white; 
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery. 
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee : 
Fairies use flowers for their charactery. 
Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock, 80 
Our dance of custom round about the oak 
Of Heme the hunter, let us not forget. 

Evans. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in 
order set ; 
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, 
To guide our measure round about the tree. 
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth. 

FaL Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, 
lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! 

Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy 
birth. 

67. "scour with juice of balm"; it was an article of ancient luxury 
to rub tables, &c., with aromatic herbs. Pliny informs us that the 
Romans did so to drive away evil spirits. — H. N. H. 

69. "installment"; seat of installation. — C. H. H. 

75. "pense" (two syllables as in French verse). — C. H. H. 

86. "middle-earth"; the globe was often called "middle earth." — 
H. N. H. 

123 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end : 90 
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, 
And turn him to no pain ; but if he start, 
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. 

Fist. A trial, come. 

Evans. Come, will this wood take fire? 

{They hum him with their tapers. 

Fat. Oh, Oh, Oh! 

Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire ! 
About him, fairies ; sing a scornful rhyme ; 
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. 

Song. 

Fie on sinful fantasy ! 

Fie on lust and luxury! 100 

Lust is but a bloody fire, 

97. "sing a scornful rhyme." The situation resembles that of the 
scene in Lyiy's Endymion (iv, 3.), where (according to the stage 
direction) "the fairies dance, and with a song pinch him [Corsites]"— 

Omnes. Pinch him, pinch him black and blue, 
Saucy mortals must not view 
What the Queen of Stars is doing 
Nor pry into our fairy wooing. 

1st Fairy. Pinch him blue. 

2nd Fairy. And pinch him black. 

3rd Fairy. Let him not lack 
Sharp nails to pinch him blue and red, etc. — C. H. H. 

98. "'pinch Mm to your time"; after this line Malone and others 
add the following from the quartos: 

"Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and iniquity." 

It is to be observed, that in this interlude the speakers, except 
Falstaff, do not appear in their own characters: they are acting 
parts; and surely Sir Hugh would not speak anything that was 
not put down for him. It is true, Falstaff a little before speaks 
of "that Welch fairy"; but he does this from the Welchman's 
accent, not from his saying anything that is not in his part. — 
H. N. H. 

124 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. v: 

Kindled with unchaste desire, 

Fed in heart, whose flames aspire. 

As thoughts do blow them, higher and 

higher. 
Pinch him, fairies, mutually ; 
Pinch him for his villainy; 

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, 
Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out. 

During this song they pinch Falstaff. Doctor 
Caius comes one way, and steals away a hoy in 
green; Slender another way, and takes off a hoy 
in white; and Fenton comes, and steals away 
Mrs. Anne Page. A noise of hunting is heard 
within. All the Fairies run away. Falstaff 
pulls off his huck's head, and rises. 

Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, and Mistress 
Ford. 

Page. Nay, do not fly; I think we have watch'd 

you now: 
Will none but Heme the hunter 'serve your 

turn? no 

WIrs. Page. I pray you, come, hold up the jest no 

higher. 
Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor 

wives ? 
See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes 
Become the forest better than the town? 

113. "These fair yokes"; the first Folio reads "yoakes," the sec- 
ond "okes." "Yokes" must refer to the resemblance of the buck's 
horns to a yoke; a sort of sense can be got out of "oaks," the 
antlers resembling the branches of oaks, but the first Folio reading 
seems preferable. — I. G. 

> 135 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Ford. Now, sir, who 's a cuckold now? Mas- 
ter Brook, FalstafF 's a knave, a cuckoldly 
knave; here are his horns, Master Brook: 
and. Master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing 
of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, 
and twenty pounds of money, which must be 120 
paid to Master Brook; his horses are ar- 
rested for it. Master Brook. 

Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we 
could never meet. I will never take you for 
my love again; but I will always count you 
my deer. 

Fat. I do begin to perceive that I am made an 
ass. 

Ford. Aye, and an ox too: both the proofs are 
extant. 130 

Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or 
four times in the thought they were not fair- 
ies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the 
sudden surprise of my powers, drove the 
grossness of the foppery into a received be- 
lief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and 
reason, that they were fairies. See now how 
wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis 
upon ill employment! 

Evans. Sir John FalstaiF, serve Got, and leave 140 
your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. 

Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. 

Evans. And leave you your jealousies too, I 
pray you. 

Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till 
thou art able to woo her in good English. 
126 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. V. 

Fal, Have I laid my brain in the sun and dried 
it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross 
o'erreaching as this? Am I ridden with a 
Welsh goat too? shall I have a coxcomb of 150 
frize? 'Tis time I were choked with a piece 
of toasted cheese. 

Evans. Seese is not good to give putter; your 
pelly is all putter. 

Fal. 'Seese' and 'putter'? Have I lived to 
stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters 
of English? This is enough to be the decay 
of lust and late-walking through the realm. 

Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, 
though we would have thrust virtue out of 160 
our hearts by the head and shoulders, and 
have given ourselves without scruple to hell, 
that ever the devil could have made you our 
delight? 

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding ? a bag of flax? 

Mrs. Page. A puffed man? 

Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable 
entrails ? 

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? 

Page. And as poor as Job? 170 

Ford. And as wicked as his wife? 

Evans. And given to fornications, and to tav- 
erns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, 
and to drinkings, and swearings, and star- 
ings, pribbles and prabbles? 

Fal. Well, I am your theme : you have the start 
of me; I am dejected; I am not able to an- 

167. "intolerable" ; monstrous, huge. — C. H. H. 
127 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

swer the Welsh flannel : ignorance itself is a 
plummet o'er me: use me as you will. 

Ford. Marry, sir, we '11 bring you to Windsor, 180 
to one ISIaster Brook, that you have cozened 
of money, to whom you should have been a 
pandar: over and above that you have suf- 
fered, I think to repay that money will be a 
biting affliction. 

Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat 
a posset to-night at my house; where I will 
desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now 
laughs at thee : tell her Master Slender hath 
married her daughter. 190 

Mrs. Page. lAside.} Doctors doubt that: if 
Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, 
Doctor Caius' wife. 

Enter Slender. 

Slen. Whoa, ho ! ho, father Page ! 

Page. Son, how now! how now, son! have you 
dispatched? 

Slen. Dispatched! I '11 make the best in Glou- 
cestershire know on 't ; would I were hanged, 
la, else! 

Page. Of what, son? 200 

Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress 

185. "a biting affliction"; after this speech the following is usually 
added from the quartos: 

'■''Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make amends: 
Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. 

Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last." 

Those who have taken this from the quartos have not told us why 
they left out some other matter that is equally there, — H. N. H. 
1^8 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. V, 

Anne Page, and she 's a great lubberly boy. 
If it had not been i' the church, I would have 
swinged him, or he should have swinged me. 
If I did not think it had been Anne Page, 
would I might never stir! — and 'tis a post- 
master's boy. 

Page. Upon my life, then, you took the wrong. 

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, 
when I took a boy for a girl. If I had been 210 
married to him, for all he was in woman's 
apparel, I would not have had him. 

Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I 
tell you how you should know my daughter 
by her garments ? 

Slen. I went to her in white, and cried 'mum,' 
and she cried 'budget,' as Anne and I had 
appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a 
post-master's boy. 

Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry : 1 22C 
knew of your purpose ; turned my daughter 
into green; and, indeed, she is now with the 
doctor at the deanery, and there married. 

Enter Caius. 

Caius. Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am 
cozened: I ha' married un garc^on, a boy; un 
paysan, by gar, a boy ; it is not Anne Page : 
by gar, I am cozened. 

218. "not Anne, hut a postman's boy"; here, again, we commonly 
have the following thrust in from the quartos: 

"Eva. Jeshu! master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys? 
Page. O, I am vex'd at heart! What shall I do?"— H. N. H. 
XXI-9 129 



Act V. Sc. V. MERRY WIVES 

Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? 
Caius. Aye, by gar, and 'tis a boy : by gar, I '11 

raise all Windsor. lExit. 230 

Ford. This is strange. Who hath got the right 

Anne? 
Page. My heart" misgives me: — here comes 

Master Fenton. 

Enter Fenton and Anne Page. 

How now. Master Fenton ! 

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, 
pardon ! 

Page. Now, mistress, how chance you went not 
with Master Slender? 

Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master 

doctor, maid? 240 

Fent. You do amaze her: hear the truth of it. 
You would have married her most shamefully, 
Where there was no proportion held in love. 
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted. 
Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. 
The offense is holy that she hath committed ; 
And this deceit loses the name of craft. 
Of disobedience, or unduteous title; 
Since therein she doth evitate and shun 
A thousand irreligious cursed hours, 250 

Which forced marriage would have brought 
upon her. 

Ford. Stand not amazed; here is no remedy: 

In love the heavens themselves do guide the 
state ; 

249. "evitate"; avoid.— H. N. H. , 
130 



OF WINDSOR Act V. Sc. V. 

^loney buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. 
Fal I am glad, though you have ta'en a special 
stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath 
glanced. 
Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give 
thee joy! 
What cannot be eschew'd must be embraced, 
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are 
chased. 260 

Mis. Page. Well, I will muse no further. Mas- 
ter Fenton, 
Heaven give you many, many merry days! 
Good husband, let us every one go home, 
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire ; 
Sir John and all. 
Ford. Let it be so. Sir Jolm, 

To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word ; 
For he to-night shall lie wdth Mistress Ford. 

[Exeiuit. 

260. "deer are chased"; here, too, we commonly have a line added 
from the quartos. 

"Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your wedding." 

It is questionable whether these passages, evidently either not 
written by the Poet, or else thrown out in the revisal, ought to have a 
place even in the notes. — H. N. H. 



idt 



GLOSSARY 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 



A-BiuDiNG, bird-catching; III. iii. 
258. 

Abstract, inventory; IV. il. 66. 

Address, make ready; III, v. 143. 

Admittance, "of Venetian ad." 
="adniitted from Venice"; 
III, iii. 64; "of great a."= 
admitted into the best com- 
pany; IT. ii. 252. 

Adversary, used jestingly for 
"advocate" by the host; II. iii. 
100. 

Affecting, full of affectation; II. 
i, 154, 

Aggravate his style, i. e. in- 
crease his title; II. ii. 316. 

Aim, "to cry aim," an expression 
borrowed from archery = to 
encourage the archers by cry- 
ing out "aim," hence to en- 
courage, applaud; III, ii, 48, 

All-hallowmas, November 1 ; 
i. e. about five weeks after 
Michaelmas ; Simple blunders 
in putting it "a fortnight afore 
Michaelmas"; I, i. 221, 

Allicholy, Mistress Quickly's 
corruption of melancholy; I, 
iv. 168. 

Alligant, Mistress Quickly's er- 
ror for elegant; II. ii, 75, 

Allowed, approved; II, ii, 253, 

Amaimon, name of a devil whose 
dominion is on the north part 
of the infernal gulph; II, ii, 
330. 



Amaze, confuse; V. v, 241. 
Angel, a gold coin valued at ten 

shillings (used quibblingly) ; I, 

iii, 61-65. 
Axthropophaginian, cannibal; 

IV. v, 10, 

Armigero; Slender's error for 
"armiger"; his knowledge of 
Latin is derived from attesta- 
tions, e. g. "Coram me, Roberto 
Shallow, armigero, &c."; I. i, 
10. 

Authentic, of acknowledged au- 
thority; II. ii. 252. 

AvisED, advised, informed; "are 
you a, of that"="have you 
found it out?"; I, iv, 109, 

Baille, deliver, bring, (the Folios 
read "ballovv") ; I, iv. 95. 

Banbury cheese, in allusion to 
Slender's thinness, B. cheese 
being proverbially thin; I, i. 
136. 

Barbason, name of a demon; II, 
ii. 331, 

Bede, the name of a fairy; V, v. 

Bestow, stow away, lodge; IV, 

ii, 49, 
Bilbo, v, latten bilbo. 
Bloody fire, fire in the blood; V, 

V, 101. 

Boitier, "a surgeon's case of 
oyntment" (the Quarto reads 
"my oyntment") ; I, iv. 49. 



132 



MERRY WIVES 



Glossary 



B o L D-B EATING, apparently = 
brow-beating; II. ii. 33. 

Bolt, v. shaft. 

Book of Riddles, a popular book 
of the day, referred to as early 
as 1575; the earliest extant edi- 
tion bears date 1639:— "The 
Booke of Merry Riddles, to- 
gether with proper Questions 
and Witty Proverbs to make 
pleasant pastime; no less use- 
ful than behovefull for any 
young man or child to know 
if he be quick-witted or no"; 
I. i. 218. 

Book of Songs and Sonnets; 
Slender is perhaps alluding to 
"Songs and Sonnets written by 
the Bight Honourable Lord 
Henry Howard, late Earle of 
Surrey and others" (pub. 
1557) ; I. i. 215. 

Bueed-bate, one who stirs up 
"bate," or contention; I. iv. 
13. 

Brewage, drink brewed; III. v. 
34. 

Buck, used quibblingly with ref- 
erence to the buck and its 
horns; III. iii. 173. 

Buck-basket, a basket for 
clothes which were to be 
bucked or washed; III. iii. 2. 

Bucking, washing; -III, iii. 144. 

Buckleusbury, Cheapside, where 
the druggists and grocers 
lived; III. iii. 82. 

Buck-washing, laundry; III. iii. 
171. 

Bully-rook, dashing fellow; I. 
iii. 2. 

Bully-stale; v, stale. 

Buttons; "'tis in his buttons" 
='tis within his compass; he 
wiU succeed; perhaps an allu- 
sion to the flower called "bach- 



elor's buttons," by means of 
which the success of love was 
divined; III. ii. 76. 

Cain-colored beard; Cain was 
represented in old tapestries 
with a yellowish beard; I. iv. 
24. 

Canaries, probably Mistress 
Quickly's version of "quan- 
dary" (pronounced candary); 
II. ii. 66. 

Canary, wine from the Canary 
Islands, sweet sack; III. ii. 95; 
[with a quibble on "canary" in 
the sense of a quick lively 
dance; III. ii. 97.] 

Caueiues, the curvetting of a 
horse; "to passe a careire is 
but to runne with strength and 
courage such a convenient 
course as is meete for his abil- 
ity"; I. i. 193. 

Carrion, used as a term of con- 
tempt; III. iii. 212. 

Carves, makes a sign of favor; 
I. iii. 50. 

Cashiered, in Bardolph's slang it 
seems to mean "eased of his 
cash"; I. i. 192. 

Castalion — King — Urinal; a non- 
sensical title which the host 
gives to Caius; "Castalion," 
used probably as a quibble with 
reference to the medical prac- 
tice of "casting the water" of 
the patient; II. iii. 34. 

Cataian, an inhabitant of Cataia 
or "Cathay" (China); a thief; 
used as term of reproach; II. 
1. 157. 

Cat-a-mountain, wild-cat, leop- 
ard, (used adjectivally); II. ii. 
30. 

Character Y, characters, writing; 
V. V. 79. 



133 



Glossary 



MERRY WIVES 



Charge, to put to expense; II. ii. 
184. 

Chariness, scrupulousness; II. i. 
110. 

Charms, love-charms, enchant- 
ments; II. ii. 116. 

Cheater, escheater, an officer of 
the Exchequer, employed to ex- 
act forfeitures, (used quib- 
blingly) ; I. iii. 80. 

Clapper-claw, thrash; II. iii. 69 
{cp. 70, 72). 

Coat, coat-of-arms ; I. i. 17. 

Cock and pie, a vulgar corrup- 
tion of "God" and "Pie" (the 
service-book of the Romish 
Church) ; I. i. 331. 

Cog, to wheedle; III. iii. 52. 

Cogging, deceiving; III. i. 126. 

Colors, ensigns; III. iv. 86. 

Come off, to pay handsomely; 
IV. iii. 14. 

Companion, fellow (in a bad 
sense) ; III. i. 137. 

Cony-Catch, to poach, pilfer; I. 
iii. 37. 

Coney-Catching, poaching, pil- 
fering; I. 1. 134. 

Coram; probably due to the for- 
mula "jurat coram me," or a 
corruption of "quorum" (quo- 
rum-esse volumus" in a Jus- 
tice's commission) ; both forms 
"corum" and "coram" are 
found as part of the title of 
"a j ustice of the peace" ; • I. i. 
6. 

CoRNUTO, cuckold; III. v. 74. 

Cotsall, an allusion to the an- 
nual sports on the Cotswold 
Hills, Gloucestershire; I. i. 97. 

Couch, crouch; V. ii. 1. 

Counter-gate, the entrance to 
one of the Counter Prisons in 
London; III. iii. 88. 

Country, district; I. i. 237. 



Cowl-staff, a pole on which a 
tub or basket is borne between 
two persons; III. iii. 161. 

Cozeners, sharpers (? play on 
"Cozen-Gerrtians,") cp.; \\\ v, 
68, 80. 

CucKOO-BiRDS, with allusion to 
cuckolds; II. i. 135. 

CuRTAL, having a docked tail; "a 
curtal dog"=a dog unfit for 
the chase, or one that has 
missed the game; II. i. 122. 

Custalorum; Shallow's corrup- 
tion of "Custos Rotulorum"; I. 
i. 7. 

Cut and long-tail, any kind of 
dogs, curtal dogs or long- 
tailed; (hence, come wlio will 
to contend with me); III. iv. 
48. 

Datchet-mead, in Windsor; III. 

iii. 15, etc. 
Dauber Y, imposture; IV. ii. 196. 
Defy, reject; II. ii. 80. 
Detest; Mistress Quickly 's erroi 

for "protest"; I. iv. 164. 
Dickens (exclamatory), the 

devil ; p r o b a b 1 y = devilkins ; 

III. ii. 20. 
Diffused, discordant; IV. iv. 5V 
Dissolved, and dissolutely; Sltn- 

der's error for "resolved, and 

resolutely",* I. i. 273. 
Dole, portion; "happy man he 

his d."="happiness be his por- 
tion"; III. iv. 69. 
Drumble, dawdle; III. iii. 162. 

Eld, old age, used in the sense 
of "old persons"; IV. iv. 37. 

Elder, "heart of elder"=weak, 
faint-hearted; the elder has no 
heart; used in contrast to 
"heart of oak"; II. iii. 30. 

Ensconce, to shelter under pro- 



134 



OF WINDSOR 



Glossary 



tection of a sconce or fort; II. 
ii. 30. 

Ephesiant, boon-companion, (an 
allusion perhaps to St. Paul's 
Epistle to the Ephesians, chap, 
ii. 10) ; IV. V. 19. 

Eringoes, sea-holly, (supposed to 
possess aphrodisiac qualities) ; 
V. V. 24. 

Esquire, a gentleman next in de- 
gree below a knight; I. i. 4. 

Eyas-musket, young male spar- 
row-hawk; III. iii. 23. 

Fap, evidently a cant term for 
"fuddled"; 'l. i. 191. 

Fartuous; Mistress Quickly's 
pronunciation of "virtuous"; 
II. ii. 109. 

Fault, misfortune; I. i. 101; III. 
iii. 243. 

(' Faustuses, "three Doctor F." (cp. 
"Mephostophilus"); IV. v. 72. 

Fights, (a sea-term), the canvas 
that hangs round the ship in 
a fight, to screen the com- 
batants; II. ii. 153. 

Fine and recovery, a term of 
law denoting absolute owner- 
ship; IV. ii. 235. 

Flannel, originally manufac- 
tured in Wales, hence ludi- 
crously used for a Welshman; 
IV. V. 178. 
Flemish, given to drink like a 
Fleming; the Dutch were noto- 
rious drunkards; II. i. 26. 

FoiN, to thrust in fencing; II. 
iii. 24. 

Fortune thy foe, an allusion to 
the old ballad "Fortune my 
foe"; III. iii. 73. 

Frampold, quarrelsome; II. ii. 
101. 

French thrift; Falstaff alludes 
to the practice of making a 



richly-dressed page take the 
place of a band of retainers; 
I. iii. 97. 

Frize, a kind of coarse woolen 
stuff manufactured by Flem- 
ings in Wales; V. v. 151. 

Froth, to make a tankard foam; 

I. iii. 15. 

FuLLAM, a loaded die (so called 
from Fulham, where false dice 
were apparently manufac- 
tured) ; I. iii. 98. 

Gallimaufry "hotch-potch," uoed 
by Pistol for "the whole sex"; 

II. i. 127. 

Gar, Dr. Caius' pronunciation of 

"God"; I. iv. 122. 
Geminy, a pair; II. ii. 8. 
GiNG, gang; IV. ii. 131. 
Goou-JER, supposed to be a cor- 
ruption of the French word 

goujbre, the name of a disease; 

used as a slight curse; I. iv. 

134. 
Good life, good name; III. iii. 

131. 
Gourd, some instrument of false 

gaming; I. iii. 98. 
Grated upon, irritated, vexed; II. 

ii. 6. 
Groat, piece of money valued at 

four-pence; I. i. 165. 
Green sleeves, an old popular 

ballad tune, still extant; II. i. 



Hack, (?) "to become cheap and 
common," perhaps with a play 
on "hack," to kick; II. i. 55; 
IV. i. 69. 

Hair, "against the hair," i. e. 
"against the grain," refers to 
the stroking an animal's hair 
the wrong way; II. iii. 41. 

Hang together, to hold together 



6E 



135 



Gloss 



ary 



MERRY WIVES 



(without altogether collaps- 
ing); III. ii. 13, 

Hawthorn-buds, dandies; III. 
Hi. 81. 

Hector, cant term for a sharper; 
I. iii. 12. 

Herod, represented as a swagger- 
ing tyrant in the old miracle 
plays; II. i. 21. 

Hick", (?) to fight; Mistress 
Quickly's interpretation of 
"hie;" probably something 
coarse is intended; IV. i. 69. 

High and low, i. e. high and low 
throws (the former were the 
numbers 4, 5, 6, the latter 1, 
3, 3) ; I. iii. 99. 

Hinds, servants; III. v. 103. 

Hodge-pudding, probably some- 
thing similar to a hodge-podge; 
V. V. 165. 

HoRN-MAD, mad as a wicked 
bull; I. iv. 54. 

Humor, (ridiculed as a much mis- 
used word of fashion; partic- 
ularly used by Nym) ; I. i. 141, 
177, 189, etc. 

Hungarian, (used quibblingly) ; 
the Hungarian wars attracted 
many English volunteers, who 
subsequently returned to Eng- 
land impoverished; I. iii. 23. 
(The first and second Quartos 
read "Gongarian.") 

Image, idea, conception; IV. vi. 
17. 

Infection, Mistress Quickly's er- 
ror for "affection"; II. ii. 129. 

Intention, intentness; I. iii. 75. 

Jack-a-Lent, a small stuffed 
puppet thrown at during Lent ; 
III. iii. 28; V. v. 138. 

Jay, used metaphorically for a 
loose woman; III. iii. 46. 



Kibe, chilblain; I. iii. 36. 
KissiNG-coMFiTS, sugar-piums; V. 
V. 23. 



Labras, lips; I. i. 174. 

Larded, garnished; IV. vi. 14. 

Latten bilbo, a sword made of 
latten, a mixed soft metal re- 
sembling brass; swords were 
called "bilbos" from the great 
reputation of those made at 
Bilboa in Spain; I. i. 173. 

Laundry, Sir Hugh Evans' error 
for "launder"; I. ii. 5. 

Leman, lover; IV. ii. 182. 

Lewdsters, libertines; V. iii. 24. 

Lime, to put lime in sack to make 
it sparkle; I. iii. 15. 

Lingered, waited in expectation; 
III. ii. 63. 

Long-tail, v. "cut," &c. 

Louses, Sir Hugh Evans' corrup- 
tion of "luces"; the joke was 
perhaps derived by Shake- 
speare from a story told of 
Sir William Wise and Henry 
VIII in Holmsted's continua- 
tion of the Chronicles of Ire- 
land, where the play is on 
"fleure de lice"; I. i. 19. 

Loves; "of all loves"=by all 
means, for love's sake; II. ii. 
128. 

Luces, pikes; "the dozen white 
luces," probably an allusion to 
the armorial bearings of Shake- 
speare's old enemy. Sir Thomas 
Lucy; a quartering of the 
Lucy arms, exhibiting the 
dozen white luces, is to be 
found in Dugdale's Warwick- 
shire; I. i. 16. 

LuNEs, fits of lunacy; IV. ii. 
22. 

Luxury, wantonness ; V. v. 100. 



136 



OF WINDSOR 



Glossary 



Machiavel, used proverbially 
for a crafty schemer; III. i. 
106. 
Make, to make mischief; I. iv. 
121. 

Makry trap, a phrase of doubt- 
ful meaning; "exclamation of 
insult when a man was caught 
in his own stratagem;" in all 
probability its real force was 
"catch me if you can"; I. i. 
1T8. 

Master of fence, one who had 
taken a master's degree in the 
art of fencing; I. i. 309. 

Mechaxicai, vulgar, vile; II. ii. 
309. 

Mill-sixpences; "these sixpences, 
coined in 1561 and 1563, were 
the first milled money in Eng- 
land, used as counters to cast 
up money"; I. i. 165. 

Mephostophilus, used by Pistol; 
the name had been made poj)- 
ular in England by Marlowe's 
Faustus; I. i. 138. 

Metheglixs, mead, a fermented 
dish of honey and water; V. 
V. 173. 

Mistress, the ordinary title of 
an unmarried gentlewoman; I. 
i. 50. 

Mince, to walk with affected 
grace; V. i. 9. 

Montant, an upright blow or 
thrust in fencing; II. iii. 27. 

Motions, proposals; I. i. 232. 

Mountain-foreigner, used by 
Pistol of Sir Hugh Evans, in 
the sense of "ultramontane," 
barbarous; I. i. 171. 

Muscle-shell, applied by Fal- 
staff to Simple because he 
stands with his mouth open; 
IV. V. 30. 



Nay-word, a watch-word, or 
rather a twin-word agreed 
upon by two confederates; II. 
ii. 141. 

NuTHooK, contemptuous term for 
a catchpole; I. i. 179. 

'Od's heartlings, an oath; God's 
heartling (a diminutive of 
"heart"); III. iv. 60. 

'Od's nouns. Mistress Quickly's 
corruption of "God's wounds"; 
IV. i. 26. 

CEillades, amorous glances; I. 
iii. 69. 

O'erlooked, bewitched; V. v. 89. 

'Ork, Sir Hugh's pronunciation 
of "work"; III. i. 16. 

OuPHES, elves; IV. iv. 50. 

Oyes, hear ye! the usual intro- 
duction to a proclamation; V. 
v. 47. 

Paid, used quibblingly in sense of 
"paid out"; IV. v. 63. 

Parcel, a constituent part; I. i. 
249. 

Passant; as a term of heraldry 
= walking, used by Sir Hugh 
Evans; I. i. 20. 

Passed, surpassed expression; I. 
i. 335. 

Passes, goes beyond bounds; IV. 
ii. 136. 

Pauca, few (i. e. words) ; I. i. 
140; "pauca verba"; I. i. 129. 

Peaking, sneaking; III, v. 74. 

Peer out, probably an allusion 
to the children's old rhyme 
calling on a snail to push forth 
its horns; IV. ii. 26. 

Peevish, foolish; I. iv. 15. 

Pensioners, the -bodyguard of 
Henry VIII and Queen Eliza- 
beth were so called; II. ii. 86, 

Period, conclusion; IV. ii. 248. 



137 



Glossary 

Pheezar, evidently formed from 
the verb "to pheeze," i. e. "to 
hurry on, to worry"; I. iii. 10. 

Phlegmatic, misapplied by Mis- 
tress Quickly; I. iv. 79. 

Phrygian, possibly in the sense 
of "Trojan," used as a cant 
term for a person of doubtful 
character; I. iii. 101. 

PiCKT-HATCH, a quarter of Lon- 
don notorious as the resort of 
bad characters; II. ii. 21. 

Pinnace, used metaphorically 
for a go-between; I, iii. 93. 

Pipe-wine, wine not from the 
bottle but from the pipe or 
cask, with a play on "pipe" in 
the sense of instrument to 
which people danced; III. ii. 
96. 

PiTTiE-WARD, ? "towards the Pet- 
ty, or Little Park"; III. i. 5. 

Plummet; "ignorance is a p. o'er 
me"; "FalstaflP evidently rep- 
resents himself as the carpen- 
ter's work, and Evans as the 
lead of the plummet held over 
him"; V. V. 179. 

Polecat, used as a term of re- 
proach, (the polecat emits a 
disgusting smell) ; IV. ii. 205. 

Possibilities, prospects of in- 
heritance; used also in the 
sense of "possession," which 
may be the meaning here; I. i. 
68. 

Pottle, a large tankard, orig- 
inally a measure of two quarts ; 

III. V. 31. 

Prat, a verb formed evidently 
by Ford from Mother Prat's 
name; IV. ii. 203. 

Preeches, breeched for flogging; 

IV. i. 83. 

Presently, immediately; III. iii. 



MERRY WIVES 

Pribbles and Prabbles, petty 
wrangiings, tittle-tattles (used 
by Sir Hugh Evans); I. i. 58. 

Primero, a game of cards; IV. 
V. 108. 

Properties, used technically for 
the necessaries of the stage, ex- 
clusive of the scenery and ] 
dresses; IV. iv. 79. 

Property, a thing wanted for a 
particular purpose, a tool, (to 
get out of debt) ; III. iv. 10. 

Puddings, the intestines of ani- 
mals were so called (^cf. "Pud- 
ding Lane"); II. i. 34. 

Pumpion, a kind of pumpkin; 
III. iii. 44. 

Punk, strumpet; II. ii. 152. 

PuNTO, a thrust or stroke in 
fencing; II. iii. 26. 

Quarter (used quibblingly) ; I. 

i. 26, 28. 
Quean, a slut; IV. ii. 190. 

Rank, mature; IV. vi. 22. 

Rato-lorum ; Slender's corrup- 
tion of (Gustos) "Rotulorum"; 
I. i. 8. 

Red-lattice phrases = ale- 
house language; a lattice win- 
dow painted red was the cus- 
tomary distinction of an ale- 
house; II. ii. 31. 

Relent, repent; II. ii. 34. 

RiNGwooD, a common name for 
a dog; II. i. 130. 

Ronyon, a mangy creature; IV. 
ii. 205. 

Sackerson, a famous bear, which 
was baited at the Paris Gar- 
den in Southwark; said to have 
belonged to Henslow & Al- 
leyn; I. i. 322. 

Sadness, seriousness; IV. ii. 100. 



138 



OF WINDSOR 



Glossary 



Sauce, "to pepper"; IV. iii. 
11. 

ScALL, scurvy; III. i. 126. 

Scut, tail of a hare or rabbit; 
V. V. 21. 

Sea-coal fire, a fire made of 
coals brought by sea, a novelty 
at a time when wood was gen- 
erally burnt; I. iv. 9. 

Season, fit time, (used probably 
technically for the time when 
the stags were at their best) ; 
III. iii. 174. 

Secure, careless; II. i. 254. 

Seeming, specious; III. ii. 44. 

Semi-circled farthingale, a pet- 
ticoat, the hoop of which did 
not come round in front; III. 
iii. 71. 

Shaft; "to make a shaft or bolt 
on 't"=: to do a thing either one 
way or another; a shafts a 
sharp arrow; a bolt, a tliick 
short one with a knob at the 
end; III. iv. 24, 

Shent, reviled, punished; I. iv. 
39. 

Ship-tire, a peculiar head-dress, 
resembling a ship; III. iii. 62. 

Shovel-boards, broad shillings of 
Edward VI used for the game 
of shove or shovel-board; I. i. 
166. 

Simple, medicinal herb; III. iii. 
83. 

Siu, the inferior clergy, as well 
■IS kniglits or baronets, for- 
merly received this title, being 
the old equivalent of the aca- 
demic Dominus; (when applied 
to Bachelors of Arts at the 
Universities it was usually at- 
tached to the surname and not 
to the Christian name) ; hence 
"Sir" Hugh Evans;, I. i. 1. 

Slack, neglect; III. iv. 118. 



Slice, applied by Nym to Slen- 
der; I. i. 140. 
Slighted, tossed; III. v. 10. 
Something, somewhat; IV. vi. 

Sprag r= sprack, i. e. quick; IV. 
i. 86. 

Speciously, a Quicklyism for 
specially (?) III. iv. 114; IV. 
v. 119. 

Staggering, wavering; ill. iii. 
12. 

Stale, the urine of hor ,es, ap- 
plied by the host to Dr. Caius; 
II. iii. 31. 

Stamps, impressed coins; III. iv. 
16. 

Star-Chameer; this Court, 
among its other functions, took 
cognizance of "routs and riots"; 

I. i. 2. 

Stoccadoes, thrusts in fencing; 

II. i. 246. 

Stock, thrust in fencing; II. iii. 

26. 
Strain, disposition; II. i. 97. 
Sufferance, sufferings; IV. ii. 2. 
Swinged, belabored; V. v. 204. 

Takes, strikes with disease; IV. 
iv. 33. 

Taking, fright; III. iii. 197. 

Tall, sturdy, powerful; "tall of 
his hands"; I. iv. 27. 

Tester, sixpence; I. iii. 100. 

Thrummed, made of coarse, 
woolen yarn; thrum, the loose 
end of a weaver's warp; IV. 
ii. 84. 

Tightly, promptly; I. iii. 92. 

Tire, head-dress; III. iii. 63. 

Tire-valiant, a fanciful head- 
dress; III. iii. 63. 

Tricking, costumes; IV. iv. 80. 

Trot, Caius' pronunciation of 
"troth"; IV. v. 92. 



139 



Glossary 



MERRY WIVES 



Trow, used by Mistress Quickly 
in the sense of "I wonder"; I. 
iv. 145. 

Truckle-bed, a small bed, run- 
ning on castors, which was 
thrust under the standing-bed 
during the day-time; IV. v. 7. 

Uncape, to unearth a fox; III. 
iii. 181. 

Unraked, "fires unr."= fires not 
raked together, not covered 
with fuel so that they might 
be found alight in the morn- 
ing; V. V. 50. 

Unweighed, inconsiderate; II. i. 
2i. 

Urchixs, imps, goblins; IV. iv. 
50. 

Veney, a bout at fencing; I. i. 
310. 

Vizaments = advisements or con- 
siderations; I. i. 40. 

Vlocting-stog, i. e. laughing- 
stock; III. i. 123. 

Wag, pack oflF; II. i. 251. 



Ward, posture of defense; II. ii. 

276. 
Watched, tamed as a hawk is 

broken in, by being kept 

awake; V. v. 109. 
WiiiTiNG-TiME, bleaching time; 

III. iii. 145. 
Whitsters, bleachers of linen; 

III. iii. 15. 
Wide of, far from, indififerent to; 

III. i. 59. 
With, by; III. v. 116. 
WiTTOLLY, cuckoldly; II. ii. 302. 
Woodman, a hunter of forbidden 

game, and also a pursuer of 

women; V. v. 31. 
Worts, roots, (used quibblingly 

with reference to Sir Hugh's 

pronunciation of "words") ; I. 

i. 139. 
Wrong, "you do yourself mighty 

wrong"=you are much mista- 
ken; III. iii. 230. 
WiioKGS, "this wrongs you," this 

is unworthy of you; IV. ii. 

171. 

Yead, an old abbreviation of 
"Edward"; I. i. 168. 



140 



STUDY QUESTIONS 

By Anne Throop Craig 



1. What is the tradition concerning the occasion of 
Shakespeare's writing this comedy? 

2. Compare the incidents in it with those in other lit- 
erature of the time and earlier. 

3. Aside from these incidents what elements are quite dis- 
tinctive ? 

4. When is the action supposed to be, with relation to 
the other plays in which FalstafF appears? 

5. What characteristics of Falstaff are apparent in this 
play? In what ways does his presentation in the other 
plays lose by the situation in this? 

6. By what several intrigues does the play proceed? 
Describe their counteraction and their relation to the cen- 
ter plot. 

7. What -characters bring in especial comedy elements? 
What are these respective comedy features ? 

8. Cite the main incidents upon which the action 
progressively turns. 



9. To what characters are we first introduced? De- 
scribe them as the conversation shows them. 

10. About what is their discussion? 

11. What is the tradition as to the Poet's possible mean- 
ing in the impersonation of Justice Shallow? 

12. Upon what errand to Mistress Quickly does Sir 
Hugh send Simple? 

13. What is Falstaff 's complaint in scene ii? 

141 



Study Questions MEERY WIVES 

14. What does he intend to do to mend his fortunes? 

15. What occupation does Bardolph have offered him, 
humorously appropriate to his character? 

16. How do Nym and Pistol take Sir John's request that 
they do his errand? What do. they decide to do to get 
even ? 

17. How does Mistress Quickly describe Rugby? 

18. What passes between Simple and Mistress Quickly 
concerning Slender? What is the description of him? 

19. What does Mistress Quickly promise Simple to un- 
dertake for his master? ^ 

20. What is the cause of Dr. Caius's commotion upon 
finding Simple in the closet? What does he do because of 
it? 

21. What other suitor of Anne's does Mistress Quickly 
take it upon herself to champion? Judging from her 
asides what does she think of the chances of the several 
suitors ? 

ACT II 

22. Describe Sir John's letter to Mistress Page. 

23. What are her comments upon it? 

24. What is the news Mistress Ford brings her just as 
she finishes reading the letter? 

25. What are their opinions of the knight and his let- 
ters? What do they devise in revenge for his imperti- 
nence? Whom do they get to help them with their plans? 

26. How do Ford and Page receive the news Nym and 
Pistol bring them ? 

27. What news comes of Sir Hugh and Dr. Caius ? 

28. What tale does Mistress Quickly concoct for Sir 
John with regard to the effect of his wooing upon the two 
ladies ? 

29. What ruse does Ford employ to gather from Fal- 
staff the course he intends to follow ? 

30. Describe the scene in which Dr. Caius awaits Sir 
Hugh for the duel. 

142 



OF WINDSOR Study Questions 



31. What is the matter of the first scene? Describe it. 

32. What is the comedy effect of Slender's asides dur- 
ing it? 

33. How do Mistress Page and Mistress Ford carry out 
their plan against Falstaff ? 

34. What difficulties of their love-match do Fenton and 
Anne discuss? 

35. Describe Slender's method of wooing. What is 
Anne's comment upon it? What does she say to her 
mother about him? 

36. What is Anne's opinion of the suitor her mother 
would choose for her? 

37. What are Mistress Quickly's final reflections in scene 
iv? 

38. Describe Sir John's account of his adventure to 
Ford. 

ACT IV 

39. Is there any motive but incidental diversion in the 
scene between Sir Hugh and William? What are its com- 
edy features? 

40. What next decoy for Falstaff do the two wives set? 

41. How is Ford also fooled while the device is carried 
through ? 

42. Was there ever such an old personage as the "fat 
woman of Brentford"? 

43. What do the two wives decide at last to do for the 
final discomfiture of Sir John? 

44. What does Ford say when the whole matter is di- 
vulged ? 

45. What are the counter-plans of Page and his wife 
for the accomplishment of Anne's marriage? 

46. What turn of his tables does the Host of the Garter 
Inn experience? Why do Sir Hugh and Dr. Caius make 
it an occasion for some sarcasm at his expense? 

47. What do Fenton and Anne Page plan to circumvent 
her parents? 

143 



Study Questions MERRY WIVES 



48. Describe the scenes in which the final trickery 
against Sir John is carried out. 

49. What superstitions about the fairies are referred to 
in the spoken lines of those taking part in the Masque in 
Windsor Park? 

50. How does Sir John moralize upon his being hoaxed 
into believing his tormentors were really fairies ? 

51. What mistakes do Slender and Dr. Caius make in 
their attempts to elope with Anne Page? 

52. Who enters to explain the mistakes of these two and 
how is their news received? 

53. How is the comedy finally brought to its close? 



144 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



II 

I 



AH the unsigned footnotes in this volume are by the 
writer of the article to which they are appended. The in- 
terpretation of the initials signed to the others is : I. G. 
= Israel Gollancz, M.A. ; H. N. H.= Henry Norman 
Hudson, A.M. ; C. H. H.= C. H. Herford, Litt.D. 



• PREFACE 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 

THE EARLY EDITIONS 

In 1609 two quarto editions of Troilus and Cressida were 
issued, with the following title-pages : — 



and Cresseida. | As it 
seruants at the globe. 



(i) "The I Historie of Troylus 
was acted by the Kings Maiesties 

I Written by William Shakespeare, | London | Imprinted 
by G. Eld for R. Bonian and H. Walley, and | are to be 
sold at the spred Eagle in Paules — Church-yeard, ouer 
against the | great North doore. | 1609.' 



V 1 



(ii) The \ Famous Historie of Troylus and Cresseid. | 
Excellently expressing the beginning | of their loues, with 
the conceited wooing | of Pandarus Prince of Licia. \ 
Written by William Shakespeare. | London | Imprinted 
by G. Eld for R. Bonian and H. Walley, and | are to be 
sold at the spred Eagle in Paules | Church-yeard, ouer 
against the | great North doore. 1 1609. | 

The text is identical in the two quartos, the difference 
being merely the variation in the title-page, and the addi- 
tion of a preface to the latter edition. There is no doubt 
that the leaf with the preface was not in the original issue, 
and that the first quarto Avas published with the state- 
ment that it had been acted by the King's servants at the 
Globe. The Cambridge Editors believe that the copies 
with this title-page were first issued for the theater, and 

1 Vide Shakespeare Quarto Facsimiles, No. 13. 
vii 



Preface TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

afterwards those with the new title-page and preface for 
the general readers, and they are of opinion that in this 
case the expression "never staled with the stage, never 
clapper-claw'd with the palms of the vulgar" must refer to 
the first appearance of the play in type, unless we suppose 
that the publisher was more careful to say what would rec- 
ommend his book than to state what was literally true. 
It seems, however, scarcely plausible that the expression 
can refer to mere publication, and not to actual perform- 
ance; it is probable that the quartos differed in some im- 
portant respects from the version of the play acted by "the 
King's servants," and the new title-page and preface were 
perhaps due to some remonstrance on the part of the au- 
thor or "the grand possessors." 

In the First Folio Troilus and Cressida is found between 
the "Histories" and "Tragedies" ; it is not mentioned in 
the Table of Contents, and the editors were evidently doubt- 
ful as to its classification. "Coriolanus," "Titus Andron- 
icus,'" "Romeo and Juliet," "Troilus and Cressida," was 
the original order of the Tragedies, and the first three 
pages of the present play were actually paged so as to 
follow Romeo and Juliet,^ but Timon of Athens was subse- 
quently put in its place, and a neutral position assigned 
to it between the two main divisions. The Folio editors' 
view that the play was a Tragedy was certainly neither 
in accordance with the sentiment of the prologue (first 
found in the Folio and seemingly non-Shakespearean) and 
the quarto preface, which make it a comedy, nor with the 
title-page and running title of the quartos which treat ic 
as a history. Troilus and Cressida presents perhaps the 
most complex problem in the whole range of Shakespeare's 
work. It has been well described as "a History in which 

1 "The editors cancelled the leaf containing the end of Romeo 
and Juliet on one side and the beginning of Troilus and Cressida 
on the other, but retained the other leaf already printed, and then 
added the prologue to fill up the blank page, which in the original 
setting of the type had been occupied by the end of Borneo and 
Juliet" (Cambridge Ed.). 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Preface 

historical verisimilitude is openly set at nought, a Comedy 
without genuine laughter, a Tragedy without pathos." 

There are many points of difference between the Quarto 
and Folio text of the play, and the Cambridge editors 
are probably correct in their conclusions that the discrep- 
ancies are to be explained thus : — the Quarto was printed 
from a transcript of the author's original MS. which was 
subsequently slightly revised by the author himself; be- 
fore the First Folio was printed this revised MS. had been 
tampered with by another hand, perhaps by the writer of 
the prologue. 

DATE OF COMPOSITION 

The publication of the quartos in 1609 gives us one 
limit for the date of Troilus and Cressida, but (i) certain 
discrepancies in the text, (ii) differences of style, thought, 
language, and metrical qualities, and (iii) important pieces 
of external evidence, make it almost certain that the play 
passed through various stages of revision, and was in 
all probability composed at different times. Under ( i ) 
must be noticed that "in Act I, sc. ii, Hector goes to the 
field and fights, in- Act I, sc, iii, after this, we find him 
groAvn rusty in the long-continued truce" ; again "the 
rhyming couplet, V, x, 33, 34, which almost terminates 
the last scene, is by the Folio editors repeated at the end 
of Act V, sc. iii, which fact strongly suggests that Scenes 
vi-x are a later insertion." As regards (ii), the general 
style of those parts of the play dealing with the Love 
Story, contrasts strongly with the parts belonging to the 
Camp Story ; the former bear the impress of Shakespeare's 
earlier characteristics,^ the latter of his later. 

(iii) External evidence points to Shakespeare's connec- 

1 Perhaps we should note in this connection the characteristically 
early "echo of Marlowe" to be found in this portion of Act II. sc. 
ii. 82, where the reference is to Marlowe's famous lines in Faustus: — 

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships 
And burnt the topmost ioxoers of Ilium? 

m 



Preface TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

tion with the subject of Troilus and Cressida at least as 
early as 1599, for in the old anonymous play of His- 
triomastix (written by Marston and others about that 
year), a satirical production called forth by the famous 
Battle of the Theatres, associated with the quarrels of 
Marston, Dekker, Jonson, etc. — occurs the following bur- 
lesque passage: — 

"Troy. Come, Cressida, my cresset light. 

Thy face doth shine both day and night, 

Behold, behold thy garter blue 

Thy knight his valiant elbow ivears,^ 

That when he SHAKES his furious SPEARE, 

The foe, in shivering fearful sort. 

May lay him down in death to snort. 
Cress. O knight, with valour in thy face. 

Here take my skreene, wear it for grace; 

Within thy helmet put the same. 

Therewith to make thy enemies lame." 2 

There can be no doubt that we have here a travesty 
of an incident (cp. Act V, ii) in a play on the subject of 

1 The text is obviously corrupt ; a line has dropped out ending in 
a word to rhyme with "blue"; "wears" should be "wear" rhyming 
with "speare." 

2 This passage lends color to the hypothesis that Troilus and 
Cressida originally had some real or supposed bearing on the 
theatrical quarrels of the day, Ajax representing Jonson, and 
Thersites standing for Dekker; "rank Thersites with his mastic 
jaios" has been brought into connection with Dekker's Satiromastix 
(1601), and Jonson's description of him in The Poetaster, "one of 
the most overflowing rank wits in Rome." Mr. Fleay has suggested 
that the "physic" given "to the great Myrmidon" (I. iii. 378) is iden- 
tical with the "purge" administered by Shakespeare to Jonson in 
The Return from Parnassus. The early Troilus and Cressida may 
have contained topical allusions, but these allusions were inten- 
tionally "overlaid" in the revised form of the play; minute criticism 
has probably detected fossil remains of theatrical satire. Even the 
doubtful Prologue with "its prologue armed" seems reminiscent of 
the armed Prologue, in Jonson's polemical Poetaster. 

It is worth while noting that the Envy Induction in the latter play 
imitated the old play Miicedorus (1598, 1st ed.); we have a refer- 
ence to the end of Mucedorus in Troilus and Cressida, II. iii. 25, 
"Devil Envy, say Amen!" 

X 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Preface 

Troilus and Cresstda, and that this play was "hy Shake- 
speare. 

We know, from Henslowe's Diary, that about the same 
time, during the early part of 1599, Dekker and Chettle 
were preparing a play which was at first to be called 
"Troylles and Cresseda," but afterwards Agamemnon; and 
it is just possible that both this and Shakespeare's Troilus 
were based on some older production. Under the date of 
February 7, 1603, there is an entry in the Stationers' Reg- 
ister to "the book of Troilus and Cressida^" as it is acted 
by "my Lord Chamberlain's servants" ; the book is en- 
tered for James Roberts to be printed "when he had gotten 
sufficient authority for it." This must have been Shake- 
speare's play. Roberts did not get the necessary author- 
ity, and hence the re-entry in the Registers (January 28, 
1609) before the publication of the Quarto edition. It is 
impossible to determine how far the play burlesqued in 
Histriomastix, the 1603 play, and the 1609 quarto, were 
identical.^ 

The safest course is to assign "circa 1599" to the play 
in its first form, "circa 1602" to the second and main re- 
vision, allowing for subsequent additions between the latter 
date and its publication in 1609. This perplexing "com- 
edy of disillusion," with its dark irony, its wistful melan- 
choly, its travesty of the faith of Romeo and Juliet, its 
depreciation of ancient heroism and medieval chivalry, its 
scoffing wordly wisdom, helps us perhaps to realize, some- 
what at least, the deepening changes in Shakespeare's as- 
pect of life, which lead him from farce to comedy, from 
comedy to somber tragi-comedy, and thence to soul-rack- 
ing tragedy. 

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 

The main sources of Troilus and Cressida are: — (i) 
Chaucer's Troilus, which formed the basis of the Jove- 

1 The title-page of the first quarto evidently claimed that the 
\ersion was the same as that acted by the Chamberlain's men iu 
X603; the second quarto, Vv'lth the preface, withdrew the statement. 



Preface TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

story ; ^ ( ii ) Caxton's Recuyell of the history es of Troye 
(translated from Raoul le Fevre's Recueil des Histoires 
de Troyes)^ and Lydgate's Troy Book (translated from 
Guido di Colonna), whence Shakespeare drew his materials 
for the camp-story; (iii) from Chapman's Homer (Bk. 
I- VII, 1597) the character of Thersites was derived {vide 
Book II). 3 

DUEATION OF ACTION 

It is impossible, according to Mr. P. A. Daniel, to as- 
sign more than four days to Troilus and Cressida, though 
certain discrepancies in Act II, sc. iii, and Act III, sc. i 
-and iii, rather hamper the distribution of the time : — 

J>ay 1. Act I, sc. i and ii. Interval. 
Day 2. Act I, sc. iii ; Act II and Act III. 
Day 3. Act IV ; Act V, sc. i and ii. 
4. Act V, sc. iii-x. 



DRYDEN S VERSION 

"Troilus and Cressida; or. Truth Found Too Late: 
A tragedy by John Dryden ; acted at the Duke's Theatre" ; 
this improvement on Shakespeare's play was published 
(4to, 1679) with a prefatory Essay, wherein the writer ex- 

1 For the literary history of Chaucer's Troilus, cp. Skeat's Preface 
to the poem; Shakespeare's and Chaucer's conceptions are con- 
trasted in Godwin's Life of Chaucer; concerning Shakespeare's debt 
to Chaucer, p. Lloyd's Essays on Shakespeare; Kales' Essays and 
Notes on Shakespeare, etc. 

2 H. O. Sommer's recent reprint of Caxton's Recuyell (Nutt, 
1894) contains a full bibliography and history of the book. Shake- 
speare may well have used Creede's 1596 version. 

3 In a valuable and suggestive paper on Greene's Romances and 
Shakespeare ("New Shak. Soc," 1888) Prof. Herford points out 
that in Euphues, His Censure to Philautus (1587), we have a version 
of the Troilus and Cressida story, which, slight and insignificant as 
it is, "approaches more nearly than any other version, the manner 
of Shakespeare's Troilus and, Cressida." 

xii 



fTROILUS AND CRESSIDA Preface 

plains that Shakespeare "began it with some fire," but "the 
latter part is nothing but a confusion of drums and trum- 
pets, excursions and alarms," many of the characters were, 
he believed, "begun and left unfinished." 



x!i! 



INTRODUCTIOlSr 

By Henky Norman Hudson, A.M. 

The first edition of this play was a quarto pamphlet of 
forty-six leaves, issued in 1609, with a title-page reading 
as follows : "The Famous History of Troilus and Cressid : 
Excellently expressing the beginning of their loves, with 
the conceited wooing of Pandarus, Prince of Licia. Writ- 
ten by William Shakespeare. London: Imprinted by G. 
Eld for R. Bonian and H. Walley, and are to be sold at 
the Spread Eagle in Paul's Churchyard, over against the 
great north door, 1609." There is also an entry in the 
Stationers' Register, dated January 28, 1609, and reading 
thus: "Richard Bonian and Henry Walley: Entered for 
their copy, under the hands of Mr. Segar, Deputy to Sir 
George Buck and Mr. Warden Lownes, a book called The 
History of Troilus and Cressida." Of course the first 
issue was made in pursuance of this entry. And that issue 
is specially remarkable in being accompanied with a sort 
of prefatory address to the reader by the editor or pub- 
lisher; which address may be seen at the end of this Intro- 
duction. In that address are two points of information 
which should be noticed here. The first is, that the play 
was then new, and had never been publicly acted ; the words 
being, — "You have here a new play, never stal'd with the 
stage, never clapper-claw'd with the palms of the vulgar." 
And again: "Not being sullied with the smoky breath 
of the multitude." The other point is, that the publish- 
ing of the play was unauthorized and surreptitious. The 
writer bids his readers, — "Thank fortune for the scape it 
hath made amongst you ; since by the grand possessors' 
wills I believe you should have pray'd for it, rather than 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

been pray'd." The "grand possessors" were doubtless the 
proprietors of the Globe Theater, in whom the rights of 
ownership were vested; and how strong their interest was 
in withholding Shakespeare's plays from the press, appears 
in that only this play and King Lear were published be- 
tween 1603 and the Poet's death, and probably both of 
these without the owners' consent. 

The edition of 1609, it seems, went to a second issue in 
the course of the same year; the prefatory address being 
withdrawn, and the title-page changed so as to read thus: 
"The History of Troilus and Cressida: As it was acted 
by the King's Majesty's servants at the Globe." We 
speak of these as two issues of one and the same edition, 
because the text of both copies is in all respects the same, 
with the exception of two or three typographical correc- 
tions. It will be observed, no doubt, that the play must 
have been acted on the public stage soon after the first 
issue, and that this was a good reason for suppressing 
the editor's preface and changing the title-page in the 
second. 

How Bonian and Walley should have obtained their copy 
for the press, is a question more likely to be raised than 
satisfactorily answered. From the title-page to the quarto 
edition of King Lear, which was issued in 1608, we learn 
that that play was acted "before the King's Majesty at 
Whitehall upon St. Stephen's night in Christmas holidays, 
by his Majesty's servants playing usually at the Globe." 
It is not unlikely that, before the first issue, Troilus and 
Cressida had been acted at the same place and by the same 
persons ; as this would nowise conflict with the statement, 
in the preface, of its being "a new play, never stal'd with 
the stage," nor "sullied with the smoky breath of the multi- 
tude." But whether the play had been so acted or not, 
we can easily conceive how it might have got into the 
publishers' hands without the owners' consent. For copies 
of it must of course have been given out to the players 
some time before the day of performance. And so the 
most likely account of "the scape it hath made amongst 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

you" seems to be, that the copy leaked somehow through 
the players' hands, and was put through the press before 
it could be got ready for the stage. 

In both issues of the quarto edition, Troilus and Cressida 
is called a "history" ; while in the prefatory address it is 
reckoned amongst the Poet's "comedies." In the folio of 
•1623, where it was next published, it was called a "trag- 
edy." The circumstances of its appearance in the latter 
edition are in some respects quite peculiar. It is not in- 
cluded in the list of plays prefixed to the volume, and 
is printed without any numbering of the pages, save that 
the pages of the second leaf are numbered 79 and 80. In 
that edition the plays are distributed under the three heads 
of Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies. Each of these di- 
visions is paged by itself, and in that of Tragedies the 
paging begins with Coriolanus. Troilus and Cressida is 
placed between the Histories and Tragedies, with nothing 
to mark which of the two divisions it falls under, except 
that in the general title it is called a "tragedy." From 
its not being included in the list of plays nor in the pag- 
ing, some have inferred that its insertion in the folio 
was an after-thought ; and that either the existence of it 
was unknown or unregarded by the editors, or else the 
right of printing it was withheld from them, till all the 
rest of the volume had been made up and struck off. We 
do not believe any thing of this ; the most probable expla- 
nation of the whole matter being, in our judgment, that 
the editors of the folio simply did not know where to class 
the play. Nor has any headway since been made towards 
clearing up the puzzle that seems to have proved too much 
for them. The play is a perfect non-descript, and defies 
the arts of classification : it may with equal propriety be in- 
cluded in either of the three divisions, or excluded from 
them all. 

The old copies of the play, both quarto and folio, are 
without any marking of the acts and scenes, save that at 
the opening we have "Actus Primus. Scena Prima." 
That a copy of the quarto was used in printing the folio, 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

is probable, as several misprints of the former are repeated 
in the latter; while, again, each copy has several passages 
that are wanting in the other; which shows that in mak- 
ing up the folio recourse was had to some authority be- 
sides the quarto. There are also divers other variations 
in the two copies ; which puts us occasionally upon a 
choice of readings. The printing, too, of both copies 
abounds to an unusual extent in errors, though most of 
them are of a kind easily corrected. 

Nearly all the critics have remarked upon the great in- 
equalities of style and execution met with in this play. In 
fact, scarce any of the Poet's plays show more of ripe- 
ness or more of greenness in his art, than we find in dif- 
ferent parts of this : it has some of his best work, and some 
of his worst; insomuch that Coleridge, in attempting a 
chronological classification of his plays from the internal 
evidence, at one time set this down to the third epoch of 
the Poet's authorship', when with "all the world of thought" 
there were still joined "some of the growing pains, and 
the awkwardness of growth"; and at another time, to the 
fifth and last epoch, when his genius was moving in its 
highest cycle. 

Nearly connected with this point is the fact that the 
play is singularly defective in unity of interest and im- 
pression : there is little constancy or continuity of purpose 
or design apparent in it ; where the real center of it lies, 
what may be the leading and controlling idea, nobody can 
tell. The characterization, individually regarded, is of a 
high order ; but there is almost no composition among the 
characters ; and, as they do not draw together towards any 
perceptible conclusion, we cannot gather why they should 
be consorted as they are. And the play abounds most 
richly, withal, in the far-sighted eloquence of moral and 
civil wisdom and discourse, such as carries our thoughts 
Into the highest regions of Hooker and Burke ; moreover, 
It is liberally endowed with noble and impressive strains of 
poetry ; yet one Is at loss to conceive why such things 
should be here, forasmuch as the use of them does not seem 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

to be regulated by any final cause, or any uniform law. 
So that, though ranking among the Poet's greatest and 
best efforts in respect of parts, still as a work of art the 
piece is exceedingly lame, because the parts do not duly 
converge in any central purpose, and so round up into an 
artistic whole. In other words, the whole does not, as in 
an organic structure, give form and law to the parts, so 
as to yield an adequate reason why they are so and not 
otherwise. 

All which naturally starts the question whether the play 
were originally written as we have received it ; or whether, 
in its present shape, it were an improvement on some older 
drama ; and, if so, whether the older drama were by Shake- 
speare or some other hand. We have seen that in the 
prefatory address of the first issue it was said to be a 
"new play." We see no cause to question the accuracy 
of this statement, as it probably need not be held to infer 
any thing more than that the play was new in the form 
it then bore. In several instances, the Poet's earlier pieces 
are known to have been afterwards rewritten, enlarged, and 
replenished with the strengths and graces of his riper 
years. This was the case with Love's Labor's Lost, Romeo 
and Juliet, and Hamlet, among those published during the 
author's life ; and it is all but morally certain that of those 
first published in 1623 AlVs Well that Ends Well, Cym- 
beline, and perhaps some others, underwent a similar 
process. 

The inequalities of workmanship in Troilus and Cressida 
are so like those in the 'pla.ys thus rewritten, as to suggest 
a common cause. And the argument growing from thence 
is not a little strengthened by an entry in the Stationers' 
Register, dated February 7, 1603: "Mr. Roberts: The 
book of Troilus and Cressida, as it is acted by my Lord 
Chamberlain's men." The "Lord Chamberlain's men" were 
the company to which Shakespeare belonged, and which, 
being specially licensed by King James soon after his ac- 
cession, in the spring of 1603, became known as "His 
xviii 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Introduction 

Majesty's servants." "Mr. Roberts," no doubt, is the 
James Roberts whom we have ah^eadj met with as the pub- 
lisher of the second quarto editions of A Midsummer 
Night's Dream and The Merchant of Venice. In both of 
those cases there is good reason to think that his issues 
were unauthorized. For The Merchant of Venice Avas en- 
tered by him in the Stationers' Books in July, 1598, with 
the proviso, "that it be not printed by the said James 
Roberts, without licence first had from the right honour- 
able the Lord Chamberlain." Something over two years 
later the same play was entered again by Thomas Heyes, 
and published soon after the entry. In the course of the 
same year an edition was put forth by Roberts. In like 
manner, A Midsummer Night's Dream was entered by 
Thomas Fisher, and was published in 1600 ; and an edition 
was published by Roberts the same year, without any entry 
at the Stationers'. Which may sufficiently account for the 
fact, if it be a fact, that there was no edition of Troilus 
and Cressida consequent upon the entry by Roberts in 
1603. 

Still there is some question whether the play entered 
in 1603 were Shakespeare's ; the only ground of such ques- 
tion being, that in Henslowe's Diary, under date of April 
and May, 1599, are found several entries of money paid 
to Dekker and Chettle in earnest of a play which they 
were then writing, entitled Troilus and Cressida, for the 
rival company known as "the Earl of Nottingham's play- 
ers." It appears, however, that in the title of this play 
"Agamemnon" was afterwards substituted for "Troilus 
and Cressida." But even if such had not been the case, 
there is very little likelihood that the "Lord Chamberlain's 
men" would have used on their boards the play of a rival 
company. The probability seems to be, that each com- 
pany had a play on the same sub j ect ; one of them, per- 
haps, being written in a spirit of competition with the 
other: for it often happened that, in case of a play suc- 
ceeding on either stage, the other sought to turn such suc- 
xix 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

cess to its own account by getting up something adapted 
to catch hold of and engage the popular interest thus 
awakened. 

The conclusion, then, which we would draw from this 
Avhole statement is obvious enough ; namely, that Shake- 
speare's Troilus and Cressida was originally written and 
acted before the spring of 1603 ; that some years later, 
probably in 1608, it was rewritten, enlarged, and in parts 
transfigured with the efficacy of the Poet's riper mind and 
more philosophical cast of thought ; and that this revision 
was with a view to the play's being brought out anew 
on the stage, and so was the cause of its being set forth as 
a "w^w play" in the edition of 1609. 

Four authorities are principally named as having been 
drawn upon by Shakespeare for the materials of this 
play. These are Chaucer's Troilus and Crese'ide; The His- 
tory of the Destruction of Troy, translated from the 
French by Caxton ; The Troy Book of Lydgate ; and Chap- 
man's translation of Homer. The first seven books of 
Chapman's version were published in 1596, and the next 
twelve books not far from two years afterwards : the whole 
twenty-four books, entitled '^The Iliads of Homer, Prince 
of Poets, — Done according to the Greek, by George Chap- 
man," were not published before 1603, probably not much 
before 1611, the first edition being undated. Shakespeare 
and Chapman were well known to each other, and probably 
stood on terms of pei-sonal friendship and intimacy, being 
members of the same great senate of genius. It was from 
Chapman most likely that the Poet derived in the main his 
ideas of the Greek and Trojan heroes, as their several char- 
acters are developed in the council and in the field. And 
it is quite remarkable that the influence from this quarter 
is most clearly traceable in precisely those parts of the 
play which convey the strongest relish and impress of the 
Poet's riper mind and larger thought ; insomuch as to favor 
the notion of their being the results of after-thought 
grafted upon the stock of an earlier production. It is 
equally probable, not to say certain, that Chapman fur- 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

nlslied the hints for the delineation of Tliersites, there be- 
ing nothing of him to be found in the other authorities 
mentioned. We say hints; for such are the most that could 
have been furnished by the Thersites of Homer towards 
the Thersites of Shakespeare, the character of the latter 
having all the freshness and spirit of an original concep- 
tion ; so that it seems as though the Poet had transfused 
his whole intellectual make-up into the person of a snarl- 
ing, scurrilous, profane railer, with a body just fitted to 
the essential ugliness enshrined within it. There was, in- 
deed, before the writing of this play, an old Interlude on 
the stage, wherein Thersites figured as one of the persons ; 
but there is no likelihood of any thing having been bor- 
rowed from it by the Poet. 

In all that regards the action of the hero and heroine, 
the main staple and ground-work of the play were unques- 
tionably taken from Chaucer's poem, though most of the 
Poet's editors have ignored the fact, if indeed they were 
not ignorant of it. It is well known that of the particular 
story of Troilus and Cressida no traces are found in any 
of the classic writers. Caxton and Lydgate indeed have 
something of it, but not in a form to have served the de- 
sign of the play ; while the part of Pandarus, whose char- 
acter and doings are interwoven with the whole course of 
the story as represented by the Poet, is wholly wanting in 
them, except a single mention of him by Lydgate, who re- 
fers to Chaucer as his authority. So that Chaucer's poem 
was the only work accessible to Shakespeare, that could 
have supplied the material for this part of the drama. 
Moreover, we have elsewhere divers clear and unmistakable 
notices of Shakespeare's having drunk largely from this 
"well of English undefiled" : many tokens of a close ac- 
quaintance with "the father of English poetry" occur in 
his plays. Before leaving this point, it should be observed 
that in Chaucer's poem Cressida is represented with a 
purity and loftiness of character not consistent with the 
actions there ascribed to her. Shakespeare borrowed the 
main points of her action, and made her character con- 
xxi 



Introduction TEOILUS AND CRESSIDA 

forniable thereto. The character of Troilus, with its 
heroic ardor and constancy of soul, is substantially the 
same in the play as in the poem. 

There remain but certain accessories of the play to be 
set down to the credit of Lydgate and Caxton. It will 
be seen, also, that the marks of paternity are in them so 
strong as to preclude all question touching the sources of 
them. The History of the Destruction of Troy, trans- 
lated by Caxton from the Recueil des Histoires de Troye 
of Raoul le Fevre, appeared in 1471. In Shakespeare's 
time it had been modernized, and was verj'- popular, as is 
shown by the fact of its passing through six editions by 
the year 1619. The History, Siege, and Destruction of 
Troy, commonly distinguished as The Troy Booh of Lyd- 
gate, came from the press in 1513. In Shakespeare's 
time, however, it was fast sinking out of use, being written 
in verse, so that it could not pass for prose, while at the 
same time the verse was so rude and stumbling that it 
could not go as poetry. For our part, we can discover 
no sure signs of the Poet's having drawn from this source 
at all; there being, we believe, nothing common to him 
and Lydgate, but what is also common to Lydgate and 
Caxton. Perhaps we ought to add that the material of 
these works was nowise original with the writers named ; 
most if not all of it being traceable to sources still more 
remote. But, inasmuch as there is no likelihood of the 
Poet's having gone beyond them, it would be beside our 
purpose to do so. We therefore dismiss this part of the 
subject by mentioning, that A proper Ballad, dialogue- 
wise, between Troilus and Cressida was entered on the Sta- 
tioners' Books in 1581, by Edward White; which may pos- 
sibly have furnished the Poet a hint for working the story 
into a drama. 

For reasons partly stated already, the play of Troilus 
and Cressida has been a standing poser to criticism. It 
is indeed a wonderful production, — wonderful alike for the 
profusion of wit, of poetry, and of wisdom crowded into 
it, and for the depth, the subtlety, and lifelikeness of the 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Introduction 

individual characterization. And so far nearly all the later 
and better critics are substantially agreed. On the other 
side, one cannot discover what the Poet is driving at : mar- 
velous as are the details in spirit and variety of life, they 
do not seem to grow from any common principle or pur- 
pose ; and it is only in the light of such principle or 
purpose that they can receive a logical statement and in- 
terpretation. Hence there has grown a remarkable di- 
versity, not to say oppugnancy, of criticism respecting it ; 
and some of the higher critics have employed what seems 
to us a great over-refinement of speculation, in order to 
make out some one idea under which the details might all be 
artistically reduced. 

Schlegel led off in this super-subtlety of critical specu- 
lation. His idea of the work is so ingenious that one can- 
not but wish it might hold true, and is stated thus: "It 
seems as if the Poet here for once wished, without caring 
for theatrical effect, to satisfy the nicety of his peculiar 
wit, and the inclination to a certain guile, if I may say 
so, in the characterization. The "whole is one continued 
irony on that crown of all heroic tales, the tale of Troy. 
The contemptible nature of the origin of the Trojan war, 
the laziness and discord Avith which it was carried on, so 
that the siege was made to last ten years, are only placed 
in clearer light by the noble descriptions, the sage and in- 
genious maxims with which the work overflows, and the 
high ideas which the heroes entertain of themselves and 
each other." 

The same notion is worked up by Ulrici to a pitch bor- 
dering, as it seems to us, upon the ludicrous. "The 
ground-idea," says he, "which, in our opinion, it is the 
aim of Troilus and Cressida to bring under the comic view, 
is the opposition, especially in the moral aspect, between 
the character and habits of Grecian antiquity, and the prin- 
ciples of modern Christendom. To exhibit this opposition 
he takes the very basis of the foraier, — the Trojan v/ar, — 
but throws its ideal import into the back-ground, and 
sketches it merely in its matter-of-fact details, though not 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

without some slight modifications. The Homeric hero is 
stripped bare of his poetic ideahty ; while, on the other 
hand, his moral weaknesses, which Homer, in the true 
spirit of a Greek, represents for the most part as virtues, 
are brought forward in the strongest light. The far- 
sighted Shakespeare certainly did not mistake as to the 
beneficial effects which an acquaintance with the high cul- 
ture of antiquity had produced and would produce on the 
mind of Christian Europe. But he saw the danger that 
would grow from an excessive admiration of it ; that it 
would generate the lowest t^^pe of moral and religious cor- 
ruption ; which result may indeed be actually discerned in 
the eighteenth century. It was in this prophetic spirit 
that he wrote this deeply-significant satire on the Homeric 
herodom. He did not wish to bring down the high, or to 
make the great little ; still less, to attack the poetical worth 
of Homer, or of heroic poetry in general : his aim was tO' 
warn against that idolatry of them which men are so apt 
to fall into ; and at the same time to press home upon them 
the universal truth, that every thing merely human, how- 
ever glorified with the halo of a poetic ideality and a 
mythical past, is yet very small, when viewed in the light of 
a pure moral ideality." 

But this view probably has its best expounder in the 
genial and excellent critic of Knight's edition of Shake- 
speare. "The play," says this writer, "cannot be under- 
stood upon a superficial reading : it is full of the most sub- 
tle art. We may set aside particular passages, and admire 
their surpassing eloquence, their profound wisdom ; but it 
is long before the play, as a whole, obtains its proper 
mastery over the understanding. It is very difficult to de- 
fine what is the great charm and wonder of its entirety. 
To us It appears as if the Poet, without the slightest par- 
ticle of presumption, had proposed to look down upon the 
Homeric heroes from an Olympus of his own. He opens 
the Iliad, and there he reads of 'Achilles' baneful wrath.' 
A little onward he is told of 'the high threatening' of 
'the cloud-gatherer.' The gods of Homer are made up of 
xxiv 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Introduction 

liuman passions. But he appears throned upon an emi- 
nence, from which he can not only command a perfect 
view of the game Avhich men play, but, seeing all, become 
a partisan of none, — perfectly cognizant of all motives, 
but himself motiveless. And yet the whole representation 
is true, and it is therefore genial. It is not a travesty of 
Homer, or of Nature. The heroes of the Iliad show us 
very little of the vulgar side of human life,^ — not much 
even of the familiar ; but the result is, they cease to be 
heroic. How this is attained, is the wonder. The whole 
tendency of the play, — its incidents, its characterization, — 
is to lower what the Germans call herodom." 

Wishing well to this view, we have therefore given it 
whatsoever advantage may be derived from the ingenuity 
and eloquence of its best advocates ; but have to confess, 
notwithstanding, our inability to find any sure foothold in 
it. There is to our mind a seriousness and reality in the 
characterization of the Greek and Trojan chiefs, and a 
depth and breadth of philosophic discourse and of prac- 
tical wisdom attributed to some of them, which will hardly 
consist with the idea of their having been conceived and 
wrought out in a spirit of mock-heroic or burlesque. So 
that our conclusion agrees substantially with that reached 
by the more sober and not less penetrating judgment of 
Mr. Verplanck, that "the high philosophy and the practi- 
cal ethics of a large portion of the dialogue are quite in- 
compatible with any such design." 

The very perplexity in which the scope and design of 
this play are wrapped seems to have made it an uncom- 
monly fertile theme to the critics. It was partly for this 
reason, perhaps, that the subject drew from Coleridge one 
of the finest specimens of philosophic criticisms to be met 
with in the language, or in any language. To omit any 
thing of it in this edition, would not be doing right: we 
therefore subjoin it entire: 

"The Troilus and Cressida of Shakespeare can scarcely 
be classed with his dramas of Greek and Roman history ; 
but it forms an intermediate link between the fictitious 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Greek and Roman histories, which we may call legendary 
dramas, and the proper ancient histories ; that is, between 
the Pericles or Titus Andronicus, and the Coriolanus or 
Julius CoEsar. There is no one of Shakespeare's plays 
harder to characterize. The name and the remembrances 
connected with it prepare us for the representation of at- 
tachment no less faithful than fervent on the side of the 
youth, and of sudden and shameless inconstancy on the 
part of the lady. And this is indeed as the gold thread 
on which the scenes are strung, though often kept out of 
sight and out of mind by gems of greater value than itself. 
But, as Shakespeare calls forth nothing from the mau- 
soleum of history, or the catacombs of tradition, without 
giving or eliciting some permanent and general interest, 
and brings forward no subject which he does not moralize 
or intellectualize ; so here he has drawn in Cressida the por- 
trait of a vehement passion, that, having its true origin 
and proper cause in warmth of temperament, fastens on, 
rather than fixes to, some one object by liking and tem- 
porary preference. 

" 'There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip. 
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out 
At every joint and motive of her body.' 

"This Shakespeare has contrasted with the profound 
affection represented in Troilus, and alone worthy the name 
of love ; — affection, passionate indeed, — swollen with the 
confluence of youthful instincts and youthful fancy, and 
growing in the radiance of hope newly risen, in short, en- 
larged by the collective sympathies of nature; — but still 
having a depth of calmer element in a will stronger than 
desire, more entire than choice, and which gives perma- 
nence to its own act by converting it into faith and duty. 
Hence, with excellent judgment, and with an excellence 
higher than mere judgment can give, at the close of the 
play, when Cressida has sunk into infamy below retrieval 
and beneath hope, the same will, which had been the sub- 
stance and basis of his love, while the restless pleasures 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

and passionate longings, like sea-waves, had tossed but on 
its surface, — this same moral energy is represented as 
snatching him aloof from all neighborhood with her dis- 
honor, from all lingering fondness and languishing re- 
grets ; whilst it rushes with him into other and nobler 
duties, and deepens the channel which his heroic brother's 
death had left empty for its collected blood. Yet another 
secondary and subordinate purpose Shakespeare has in- 
woven with his delineation of these two characters, — that 
of opposing the inferior civilization, but purer morals, of 
the Trojans to the refinements, deep policy, but duplicity 
and sensual corruptions of the Greeks. 

"To all this, however, so little comparative projection 
is given, — nay, the masterly group of Agamemnon, Nes- 
tor, and Ulysses, and, still more in advance, that of Achilles, 
Ajax, and Thersites, so manifestly occupy the fore-ground, 
— that the subservience and vassalage of strength and 
animal courage to intellect and policy seems to be the les- 
son most often in our Poet's view, and which he has taken 
little pains to connect with the former more interesting 
moral impersonated in the titular hero and heroine of the 
drama. But I am half inclined to believe that Shake- 
speare's main object, or shall I rather say, his ruling im- 
pulse, was to translate the poetic heroes of paganism into 
the not less rude, but more intellectually vigorous and more 
featurely warriors of Christian chivalry ; and to substan- 
tiate the distinct and graceful profiles or outlines of the 
Homeric epic into the flesh and blood of the romantic 
drama ; in short, to give a grand history-piece in the robust 
style of Albert Durer. 

"The character of Thersites, In particular, well deserves 
a more careful examination, as the Caliban of demagogic 
life ; — the admirable portrait of intellectual power deserted 
by all grace, all moral principle, all not momentary im- 
pulse, — just wise enough to detect the weak head, and 
fool enough to provoke the armed fist of his betters: one 
whom malcontent Achilles can Inveigle from malcontent 
Ajax, under the one condition that he shall be called on 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

to do nothing but abuse and slander, and that he shall be 
allowed to abuse as much and as purulently as he likes, 
that is, as he can ; — in short, a mule, — quarrelsome by the 
original discord of his nature, — a slave by tenure of his 
own baseness, — made to bray and be brayed at, to despise 
and be despicable. ^Aje, Sir, but, say what you will, he 
is a very clever fellow, though the best friends will fall 
out. There was a time when Ajax thought he deserved to 
have a statue of gold erected to him ; and handsome 
Achilles, at the head of the Myrmidons, gave no little 
credit to his friend Thersites.' " 

We will close up the subject with some remarks by Will- 
iam Godwin, in his Life of Chaucer, where he discusses, 
with much judgment and discrimination, the comparative 
treatment of the same story by the two great masters of 
English poetry: 

"Since two of the greatest writers this island has pro- 
duced have treated the same story, each in his own pecu- 
liar manner, it m.ay be neither unentertaining nor unin- 
structive to consider the merit of their respective modes of 
composition as illustrated in the present example. Chau- 
cer's poem includes many beauties, many genuine touches 
of nature, and many strokes of an exquisite pathos. It 
is on the whole, however, written in that style which has 
unfortunately been so long imposed upon the world as 
dignified, classical, and chaste. It is naked of incidents, 
of ornament, of whatever should most awaken the imag- 
ination, astound the fancy, or hurry away the soul. It has 
the stately march of a Dutch burgomaster as he appears 
in a procession, or a French poet as he shows himself in 
his works. It reminds one too forcibly of a tragedy of 
Racine. Every thing partakes of the author, as if he 
thought he should be everlastingly disgraced by becom- 
ing natural, inartificial, and alive. We travel through a 
work of this sort as we travel over some of the immense 
downs with which our island is interspersed. All is smooth, 
or undulates with so gentle and slow a variation as scarcel3^ 
to be adverted to by the sense. But all is homogeneous 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

and tiresome ; the niind sinks into a state of aching tor- 
pidity ; and we feel as if we should never get to the end of 
our eternal journey. What a contrast to a journey among 
mountains and valleys, spotted with herds of various kinds 
of cattle, interspersed with villages, opening ever and anon 
to a view of the distant ocean, and refreshed with rivulets 
and streams ; where if the eye is ever fatigued, it is with 
the boundless flood of beauty which is incessantly pour- 
ing upon it! Such is the tragedy of Shakespeare. 

"The great beauty of this play, as of all the genuine 
writings of Shakespeare, beyond all didactic morality, be- 
yond all mere flights of fancy, and beyond all sublime, — 
a beauty entirely his own, and in which no writer ancient 
or modern can enter into competition with him, — is that 
his men are men; his sentiments are living, and his char- 
acters marked with those delicate, evanescent, undefinable 
touches, which identify them with the great delineation of 
nature. The speech of Ulysses in Act III, sc. iii, when 
taken by itself is purely an exquisite specimen of didactic 
morality ; but when combined with the explanation given 
by Ulysses, before the entrance of Achilles, of the nature 
of his design, it becomes an attribute of a real man, and 
starts into life. 

"When w^e compare the plausible and seemingly affec- 
tionate manner in which Ulysses addresses himself to 
Achilles, with the key which he here furnishes to his mean- 
ing, and especially with the epithet 'derision,' we have a 
perfect elucidation of his character, and must allow that it 
is impossible to exhibit the crafty and smooth-tongued 
politician in a more exact or animated style. The advice 
given by Ulysses is in its nature sound and excellent, and 
in its form inoff^ensive and kind; the name therefore of 
'derision,' which he gives to it, marks to a wonderful degree 
the cold and self-centered subtlety of his character. 

"The whole catalogue of the Dramatis Personce in the 
play of Troilus and Cressida, so far as they depend upon 
a rich and original vein of humor in the author, are drawn 
with a felicity which never was surpassed. The genius of 



Introduction TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Homer has been a topic of admiration to almost every 
generation of men since the period in which he wrote. 
But his characters will not bear the slightest comparison 
with the delineation of the same characters as they stand in 
Shakespeare. This is a species of honor which ought by 
no means to be forgotten when we are making the eulogiura 
of our immortal bard, a sort of illustration of his greatness 
which cannot fail to place it in a very conspicuous light. 
The dispositions of men perhaps had not been sufficiently 
unfolded in the very early period of intellectual refine- 
ment when Homer wrote ; the rays of humor had not been 
dissected by the glass, or rendered perdurable by the rays 
of the Poet. Homer's ch- racters are drawn with a laud- 
able portion of variety and consistency ; but his Achilles, 
his Ajax, and his Nestor are, each of them, rather a spe- 
cies than an individual, and can boast more of the propriety 
of abstraction, than of th vivacity of the moving scene 
of absolute life. The Achilles, the Ajax, and the various 
Grecian heroes of Shakespeare, on the other hand, are ab- 
solute men, deficient in n. thing which can tend to individ- 
ualize them, and already touched with the Promethean fire 
that might infuse a soul into what, without it, were life- 
less form. From the rest perhaps the character of Ther- 
sites deserves to be selected, (how cold and school boy a 
sketch in Homer!) as exhibiting an appropriate vein of 
sarcastic humor amidst his cowardice, and a profoundness 
of truth in his mode of laying open the foibles of those 
about him, impossible to be excelled. 

"One of the most formidable adversaries of true poetry, 
is an attribute which is generally miscalled dignity. 
Shakespeare possessed, no man in higher perfection, the 
true dignity and loftiness of the poetical afflatus, which 
he has displayed in many of the finest passages of his 
works with miraculous success. But he knew that no man 
ever was, or ever can be, always dignified. He knew that 
those subtler traits of character, which identify a man, 
are familiar and relaxed, pervaded with passion, and not 
played off with an eye to external decorum. In this re- 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA introduction 

spect the peculiarities of Shakespeare's genius are nowhere 
more forcibly illustrated, than in the play we are here con- 
sidering. The champions of Greece and Troy, from the 
hour in which their names were first recorded, had always 
worn a certain formality of attire, and marched with a 
slow and measured step. No poet, till this time, had ever 
ventured to force them out of the manner which their epic 
creator had given them. Shakespeare first supplied their 
limbs, took from the the classic stiffness of their gait, and 
enriched them with an entire set of those attributes which 
might render them completely beings of the same species 
with ourselves." 



ADDRESS 

PREFIXED TO THE QUARTO EDITION, 1609 

A NEVER WE-ITEU, TO AN EVER READER: NEWS 

Eternal reader, you have here a new play, never staled 
with the stage, never clapper-clawed with the palms of the 
vulgar, and yet passing full of the palm comical ; for it is 
a birth of j^our brain, that never undertook any thing com- 
ical vainly: and were but the vain names of comedies 
changed for the titles of commodities, or of plays for pleas, 
you should see all those grand censors, that now style 
them such vanities, flock to them for the main grace of 
their gravities ; especially this author's comedies, that are 
so framed to the life, that they serve for the most common 
commentaries of all the actions of our lives, showing such 
a dexterity and power of wit, that the most displeased with 
iplsijs are pleased with his comedies. And all such dull 
and heavy-witted worldlings as were never capable of the 
wit of a comedy, coming by report of them to his repre- 
sentations, have found that wit there that they never found 
in themselves, and have parted better-witted than they 
came ; feeling an edge of wit set upon them, more than 
ever they dreamed they had brain to grind it on. So 
much and such savored salt of wit is in his comedies, that 
they seem, for their height of pleasure, to be born in that 
sea that brought forth Venus. Amongst all there is none 
more witty than this ; and had I time I would comment 
upon it, though I know it needs not, for so much as will 
make you think your testern well bestowed, but for so much 
worth as even poor I know to be stuffed in it. It deserves 
such a labor as well as the best comedy in Terence or 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Address 

Plautus, And believe this, that when he is gone, and his 
comedies out of sale, you will scramble for them, and set 
up a new English inquisition.^ Take this for a warning, 
and at the peril of your pleasure's loss, and judgment's, 
refuse not, nor like this the less, for not being sullied with 
the smoky breath of the multitude ; but thank fortune for 
the scape it hath made amongst you ; since by the grand 
possessors' wills I believe you should have prayed for them, 
rather than been prayed.^ And so I leave all such to be 
prayed for (for the states of their wits' healths) that will 
not praise it. Vale. 

1 This Address, with all its conceit and affectation, has some 
very just and intelligent praise, and in a higher strain than any 
other we have that was written during the Poet's life; unless we 
should except a passage in Spenser's Teens of the Muses. The 
writer, whoever he might be, gives out in this place a pretty shrewd 
anticipation. Many things occurring in our time might be aptly 
quoted as answering to his forecast of "a new English inquisition"; 
as, for example, £130 was given a few years since for a copy of 
The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, which was the original 
form of The Third Part of King Henry VI.— H. N. H. 

2 There is some obscurity here. The ' "grand possessors," we 
have no doubt, were the proprietors of the Globe Theatre, and the 
passage refers to the means they used to keep Shakespeare's plays 
out of print. Probably we should understand them as referring not 
to possessors, but to the comedies for which "a new English inquisi- 
tion" was to be "set up"; the sense thus being, "you should have 
prayed to get them, rather than have been prayed to io buy them." 
— H. N. H. 



COMMENTS 

By Shakespearean Scholars 

CRESSIDA 

The poet has endeavored at first to deceive the reader 
as well as honest Troilus as to Cressida's character, or to 
keep him uncertain. She appears at first in company with 
her uncle, she displays a light but not unequal wit, she 
is, however, without depth, an adept at double entendre, 
and indelicate in her expressions. She betrays almost at 
once that she could say more in praise of Troilus than 
Pandarus does, that she, however, "holds off," in order to 
attract them more methodically, because she knows "men 
prize the thing ungain'd more than it is." In her inter- 
course with Troilus she maintains her reserve in practice as 
before in theory, confessing and yielding, and varying 
the plan of her coquettish allurements, although she is not 
to appear so much a coquette by profession as by nature, 
the prey of the first, as afterwards of the second oppor- 
tunity, when the pander in consequence has so easy a part 
to play. She was "won at the first glance," she tells 
Troilus, but confesses that it was "hard to seem won." 
She had held back, although she wished that "women had 
men's privilege of speaking first." She acknowledges that 
she loves him, "but not so much but she might master it !" 
And yet this is a lie, for her 

thoughts were like unbridled children, grown 
Too headstrong for their mother! 

Thus she trifles with him, and in every concession she 
plants a sting ; she tempts him by an ambiguous expression 
to kiss her, and then declares she had not meant it. She 



TEOILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

plays the same game subsequently with Diomedes, prom- 
ises, draws back, gives him Troilus' sleeve, takes it away 
again, and all this to sharpen him like a whetstone ; 
Diomedes, understanding all these arts and jests, declines 
them, and by this manner also attains his end. With 
Troilus they are better adapted, although superfluous. 
She wins him merely by her suspicious anger as to his 
challenging her truth; the very sign of an evil conscience 
in her he takes for delicate sensitiveness. She enchants 
him when she assures him that in simplicity "she'll war with 
him." She swears also to be unceasingly true to him, but 
she does so with ominous and equivocal expressions ; "Time, 
force, and death," she says, 

Do to this body what extremes you can; 
But the strong base and building of my love 
Is as the very center of the earth. 
Drawing all things to it! 

With the same suspicious expression Pandarus praises the 
innate constancy of all her kindred: "They are burs, 
they'll stick where they are thrown ;" that is, to one as well 
as to another. — Gervinus, Shakespeare Commentaries. 

She is a mere child and beginner in comparison with 
Cleopatra, for instance, who, for all that, is not so un- 
mercifully condemned. But Shakespeare has aggravated 
and pointed every circumstance until Cressida becomes 
odious, and rouses only aversion. The change from love 
to treachery, from Troilus to Diomedes, is in no earlier 
poet effected with such rapidity. Whenever Shakespeare 
expresses by the mouth of one or another of his characters 
the estimate in which he intends his audience to hold her, 
one is astounded by the bitterness of the hatred he dis- 
closes. It is especially noticeable in the scene (Act IV) in 
which Cressida comes to the Greek camp and is greeted by 
the kings with a kiss. 

At this point Cressida has as yet offended In nothing. 
She has, out of pure, vehement love for him, passed such a 



Comments TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

night with Troilus as Juhet did with Romeo, persuaded to 
it by Pandarus, as Juhet was by her nurse. Now she ac- 
cepts and returns the kiss wherewith the Greek chieftains 
bid her welcome. We may remark, in parenthesis, that at 
that time there was no impropriety in such a greeting. 
For all that, Ulysses, who sees through her at the first 
glance, breaks out on occasion of this kiss which Cressida 
returns : 

"Fie, fie upon her. 

There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lips, 

Nay, her foot speaks, her wanton spirit looks out 

At every joint and motive of her body. 

Oh, these encounterers, so glib of tongue. 

That give occasion welcome ere it comes. 

And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts 

To every ticklish reader ! Set them down 

For sluttish spoils of opportunitj^ 

And daughters of the game." 

So Shakespeare causes his heroine to be described, and 
doubtless it is his own last word about her. — Brandes, 
William Shakespeare. 

Shakspere's treatment of the story involves the degra- 
dation of Cressida. The charming coquette of Benoit, 
the voluptuous court-lady of Boccaccio, the tender-hearted 
widow of Chaucer, becomes in the play a scheming cold- 
blooded profligate. Such a woman does not need to have 
Troilus' suit pressed upon her by Pandarus, and if she 
"holds off" for a time, it is merely, as she frankly con- 
fesses, to gratify her vanity and eagerness for despotic 
sway over her lover : 

"Women are angels, wooing: 
Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing. 
That she beloved knows nought, that knows not this: 
Men prize the thing ungained more than it is: 
That she was never yet, that ever knew 

Love got so sweet as when desire did sue." 

This is not the language of passion, whether pure or un- 
holy, but of that calculating wantonness which prefers the 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

feeling of mastery even to sensual gratification. Yet when 
the confession of her partiality for Troilus cannot be any 
longer delayed, she cleverly poses as the deeply enamored 
woman whose lips have hitherto been sealed by modesty. 
She affects a fear that, in her rapture, she will betray her 
emotion too unreservedly, and with an ambiguous request 
to stop her mouth, she draws him into kissing her. Then, 
with the artfulness of a consummate flirt, she pretends to 
be eager to hide her confusion in solitude, and can only 
be prevailed on to stay by a passionate declaration of 
Troilus' eternal fidelity. She protests her own unswerv- 
ing loyalty with equal ardor, and crowns this mockery of 
genuine devotion by yielding to his wishes. When after- 
wards she hears that she is to be exchanged for Antenor, 
she declares that she will never leave Troilus, that she has 
forgotten her father, and that whatever extremes "time, 
force, and death" may do to her body, "the strong base 
and building" of her love 

"Is as the very center of the earth 
Drawing all things to it." 

This expression, as Gervinus has noted, is ominous, and 
on her arrival in the Greek camp she at once shows herself 
in her true colors. She allows herself to be "kissed in 
general" by all the chiefs, and she gets the laugh on 
Menelaus by an equivocal jest. She does not gradually 
fall away from loyalty to Troilus, for of loyalty her shal- 
low nature is incapable ; she simply throws herself with 
redoubled zest into her old game in this new field. In 
Diomed, who has been her escort between the hostile lines, 
she spies, as she thinks, a fully qualified substitute for 
Troilus. But she has mistaken her man, and in the scene 
between the two in Act V, Shakspere has, with a few pun- 
gent strokes, delineated the Nemesis upon the heartless co- 
quette. Diomed is no raw youth, dwelling in a fool's para- 
dise, and seeing life and love through a rose-colored haze. 
He is an experienced soldier and man of the world, who 
takes at a glance the measure of the woman with whom he 



Comments TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

has to deal. He "tames" her by a method as suited to 
her character and as effective as Petruchio's with Kate. 
When she tries on him her accustomed trick of holding off, 
instead of pleading for her favors, he taunts her with be- 
ing forsworn, and turns his back upon her with a curt 
good-night. It is she then who, to keep him by her side, 
has to use entreaties and caresses, and even to offer him in 
pledge of her faith the sleeve given her by Troilus. The 
shallow coquette pays a heavy yet just price for her selfish 
levity, when she exchanges a chivalrous adorer for a harsh 
and imperious taskmaster. — Boas, Shakspere and his 
Predecessors. 

TROILUS 

Troilus is the youngest of Priam's numerous sons, and 
the passion of which he is the victim is the bare instinctive 
impulse of the teens, the form that first love takes when 
crossed by an unworthy object, which might have been that 
of Romeo had Rosalind not overstood her opportunity. 
It is his age that explains how, notwithstanding his high 
mental endowments, he is so infatuated as to mistake the 
planned provocation of Cressida's coyness for stubborn 
chastity, and to allow himself to be played with and inflamed 
by her concerted airs of surprise and confusion when at last 
they are brought together. He is quite as dull in appre- 
hending the character of Pandarus, and complains of his 
tetchiness to be wooed to woo, when in fact he is but hold- 
ing off in the very spirit of his niece and affecting reluct- 
ance in order to excite solicitation. Boccaccio furnished 
some of the lines of this characterization to Chaucer, but 
Chaucer gave them great development in handing them 
down to Shakespeare. Troilus is preserved from the ri- 
diculousness that pursues the dupes of coquettes of so de- 
based a stamp as Cressida, by the allowances that untried 
youth bespeaks, and by the spirit and gallantry that prom- 
ises the coming self-recovery, the first process of which 
appears in the control he imposes on his anger and impa- 
tience when he looks on at the scene of her falseness, and 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

is completed as we have seen. Still our sympaUiies are 
but moderately engaged for him, for what can we say of 
him but that he is young and a fool — though heroes have 
been so before and since, fit tq be played with and played 
upon by a jade who only tantalizes him that he may cease 
to be shy. He is the subjected slave of an intoxication 
that makes him insensible to the debasement of admitting 
such a worm as Pandarus into the very presence of what 
should be the sanctities of love. The ungenuineness of the 
love that is in question is self -betrayed when in the first 
declaration, as in the latest parting, he angles for and in- 
vites assurances of faithfulness which it is not in the nature 
of things should be either convincing or true. — Lloyd, 
Critical Essays. 

CRESSIDA AND PANDARUS 

The characters of Cressida and Pandarus are very amus- 
ing and instructive. The disinterested willingness of 
Pandarus to serve his friend in an aff^air which lies next 
his heart is immediately brought forward. "Go thy way, 
Troilus, go thy way ; had I a sister were a grace, or a 
daughter were a goddess, he should take his choice. O 
admirable man ! Paris, Paris is dirt to him, and I warrant 
Helen, to change, would give money to boot." This is the 
language he addresses to his niece: nor is she much be- 
hindhand in coming into the plot. Her head is as light 
and fluttering as her heart. "It is the prettiest villain, 
she fetches her breath so short as a new-ta'en sparrow." 
Both characters are originals, and quite different from what 
they are in Chaucer. In Chaucer, Cressida is represented 
as a grave, sober, considerate personage (a widow — he 
cannot tell her age, nor whether she has children or no) 
who has an alternate eye to her character, her interest, and 
her pleasure: Shakespear's Cressida is a giddy girl, an 
unpracticed jilt, who falls in love with Troilus, as she 
afterwards deserts him, from mere levity and thoughtless- 
ness of temper. She may be wooed and won to anything 



Comments TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

and from anything, at a moment's warning; the other 
knows very well Avhat she would be at, and sticks to it, and 
is more governed by substantial reasons than by caprice 
or vanity. Pandarus again, in Chaucer's story, is a 
friendly sort of go-between, tolerably busy, officious, and 
forward in bringing matters to bear : but in Shakespear he 
has "a stamp exclusive and professional": he wears the 
badge of his trade ; he is a regular knight of the game. — 
Hazlitt, Characters of Shakespear's Plays. 

THERSITES 

The character of Thersites, in particular, well deserves a 
more careful examination, as the Caliban of demagogic 
life ; — the admirable portrait of intellectual power deserted 
by all grace, all moral principle, all not momentary im- 
pulse; — just wise enough to detect the weak head, and fool 
enough to provoke the armed fist of his betters ; — one 
whom malcontent Achilles can inveigle from malcontent 
Ajax, under the one condition, that he shall be called on to 
do nothing but abuse and slander, and that he shall be 
allowed to abuse as much and as purulently as he likes, 
that is, as he can ; — in short, a mule, — quarrelsome by the 
original discord of his nature, — a slave by tenure of his 
own baseness, — made to bray and be brayed at, to despise 
and be despicable. "Aye, Sir, but say what you will, he 
is a very clever fellow, though the best friends will fall 
out. There was a time when Ajax thought he deserved 
to have a statue of gold erected to him, and handsome 
Achilles, at the head of the Myrmidons, gave no little credit 
to his friend Thersites!" — Coleridge, Lectures on Shak- 
spere. 

THE CAUSE OF THE GREEKS 

Viewed in a moral and just sense, the cause of the 
Greeks is not better than that of the Trojans; on the side 
of honor it is worse. Shakespeare has allowed the Homeric 
xl 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

Achilles, who purchased lasting fame with a short life, to 
degenerate from a hero into a vain, morbidly proud, and 
ejfFeminatc mocker. Not on account of any dispute with 
Agamemnon, but for the sake of the promised Polyxena, 
he withdraws from the fight and from glory ; he has no 
sympathy with the common honor, hke Hector ; he aban- 
dons the glory and honor of Greece to follow this love ; 
he cares for nothing in the world but what affects him 
personally ; he rouses himself, therefore, first after the 
death of Patroclus (this trait also Shakespeare takes from 
Homer), and even then only for a victory which brings 
him more ignominy than honor. The weak Ajax imitates 
him in haughtiness and inactivity, and withdraws, as 
Achilles had done, in the decisive moment, after having 
won a little honor. Ulysses takes all possible pains to 
arouse in both the public spirit, the ambition, and the thirst 
for glory which overflowed in Hector and Troilus. The 
finest speeches in the play, as well as the intrigues which 
lengthen out the action, have reference to this intention. 
To this we may trace that eloquent speech on the destroyed 
discipline and deference to rank (Act I, sc. iii), and on the 
fever of envy which caused those divisions and weakness 
in the camp, wherein lay the strength of Troy. There is 
reference to it in the proposal to appoint Ajax for the sin- 
gle combat with Hector, and thereby to rouse Achilles. 
There is reference to it in the oft-recurring eulogy of the 
ascendency of mental over bodily strength. There is ref- 
erence to it in the shameless flattery with which they bait 
the stupid Ajax, and feed his hungry, envious ambition. 
There is reference to it in the noble lesson (Act III, sc. 
iii) impressed upon Achilles, and which was the purport of 
Ulysses' first speech, that steadfastness alone keeps honor 
bright. All this has little effect ; the two strong-armed 
heroes have too little feeling for honor and glory, Hector 
and Troilus have too much ; these latter mean well and do 
ill, the former mean ill and do well, or rather they escape 
harm. On the side of the Greeks, Nestor and Ulysses fare 
the best, because they possess at least public spirit and 



Comments TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

policy. Yet this also is only ordinary cunning which dis- 
plays profound wisdom in the mysteries of state policy 
when the question concerns mere espionage, a wisdom which 
in consequence attains its ends only in an equivocal man- 
ner. — Gervinus, Shakespeare Commentaries. 

SHAKESPEARE'S INTENTION 

Shakspeare's intention was rather to use the satirical 
element only for the representation of a higher, we might 
almost sa}^, an historical view of life. As several of his 
comedies possess not only a general, but also an historical 
significance, in so far as they describe — within the comic 
view of life — the most important moral and political foun- 
dations of the life of his age, so the historical significance 
appears here to be made the real nucleus of the composi- 
tion, and runs through it like a bright streak of light giv- 
ing a peculiar illustration of that part of history upon 
which it touches. For, as I think, Shakspeare intended to 
point out the profound all-pervading contrast between the 
much-commended mental character and life of Greek an- 
tiquity, as compared with the new principle of life in the 
Christian era, and to reveal the blemishes and defects of 
Greek life, especially in regard to its morals, as compared 
with the ever-increasing admiration bestowed upon it. 
This could probably not be effected otherwise than by giv- 
ing a closer view of the essential foundation of the an- 
cient, and more especially of Greek, life and mental culture, 
taken from a comico-poetic standpoint. And this founda- 
tion, as is acknowledged on all hands, is formed by the 
Homeric poems, or, what is the same thing, the Trojan 
war in its mythico-poetic conception. But these immortal 
poems, when regarded from a strictly moral point of view, 
and in spite of all their ideality, obviously contain a de- 
cidedly immoral element, or, if it be preferred, the form in 
which the idea is clothed — according to our higher modern 
conception of moral relations — presents an ugly blot. 
For the whole of the external story turns upon the recovery 
xlii 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

of an adulteress who has run off with her lover, and whose 
sentiments and manner of acting can in no way be excused, 
either by ideal beauty or by the interference of the gods 
(Aphrodite) ; on the contrary, the immorality in which 
even the gods themselves take part, appears only the more 
glaring by such an interference. Helen's abduction was 
not worthy of the great war of vengeance which was under- 
taken by the Greek princes ; for the honor of the Greek 
nation was more deeply wronged by Helen herself than by 
Paris. A war undertaken for such a cause and such an 
object must, therefore, be repulsive to the moral conscious- 
ness of modern times ; and still more do we feel this subse- 
quently when Helen and her wronged husband are again 
united, and restored to all their rights, as if nothing had 
happened. It is true that the Greeks had a different idea 
of marriage and of the mission of women ; this we all know, 
and Shakspeare doubtless knew it also. But the very fact 
of their entertaining such notions, is the immoral part of 
the matter. This is the dark side of Greek antiquity : a 
youthfully vigorous, but also youthfully sensuous view of 
life supported by the idea of beauty, and idealized as re- 
gards form ; a view of life which raised beauty into an 
absolute privilege, and considered its value as greater than 
that of goodness and truth. It was only individual phil- 
osophical minds that rose above this idea, without, however, 
being able to gain a different standpoint or to raise the 
minds of the people to a level with their own. — Ulrici, 
Shakspeare' s Dramatic Art. 

THE TENDENCY OF THE PLAY 

The feeling which the study of Shakspere's Troilus and 
Cressida slowly but certainly calls forth, is that of almost 
prostration before the marvelous intellect which has pro- 
duced it. But this is the result of study, as we have said. 
The play cannot be understood upon a superficial read- 
ing: it is full of the most subtle art. We may set aside 
particular passages, and admire their surpassing elo- 
xliii 



Comments TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

qucnce, — their profound wisdom ; but it is long before the 
plaj, as a whole, obtains its proper mastery over the under- 
standing. It is very difficult to define what is the great 
charm and wonder of its entirety. To us it appears as if 
the poet, without the slightest particle of presumption, 
had proposed to himself to look down upon the Homeric 
heroes from an Olympus of his own. He opens the 
"Iliad," and there he reads of "Achilles' baneful wrath." 
A little onward he is told of the "high threatening" of 
"the great cloud-gatherer." The gods of Homer are 
made up of human passions. But he appears throned 
upon an eminence, from which he can not only command 
a perfect view of the game which men play, but, seeing all, 
become a partisan of none, — perfectly cognizant of all 
motives, but himself motiveless. And 3^et the whole repre- 
sentation is true, and it is therefore genial. He does not 
stand above men by lowering men. Social life is not made 
worse than it is, that he who describes it may appear above 
its ordinary standard. It is not a travestie of Homer, or 
of Nature. The heroic is not lowered by association with 
the ridiculous. The heroes of the "Iliad" show us very lit- 
tle of the vulgar side of human life, — not much even of 
the familiar ; but the result is, that they cease to be heroic. 
How this is attained is the wonder. It is something to 
have got rid of the machinery of the gods, — something to 
have a Thersites eternally despising and despised. But 
this is not all. The whole tendency of the play, — its inci- 
dents, its characterization, — is to lower what the Germans 
call herodom. Ulrici maintains that "The far-sighted 
Shakspere most certainly did not mistake as to the bene- 
ficial effect which a nearer intimacy with the high culture 
of antiquity had produced, and would produce, upan the 
Christian European mind. But he saw the danger of an 
indiscriminate admiration of this classical antiquity ; for 
he who thus accepted it must necessarily fall to the very 
lowest station in religion and morality ; — as, indeed, if we 
closely observe the character of the 18th century, we see 
has happened. Out of this prophetic spirit, which pene- 
xliv 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Comments 

trated with equal clearness through the darkness of coming 
centuries and the clouds of a far-distant past, Shakspere 
wrote this deeplj^-significant satire upon the Homeric 
herodom. He had no desire to debase the elevated, to 
deteriorate or make little the great, and still less , to at- 
tack the poetical worth of Homer, or of heroic poetry in 
general. But he Avished to warn thoroughly against the 
over-valuation and idolatry of them, to which man so will- 
ingly abandons himself. He endeavored, at the same time, 
to bring strikingly to view the universal truth that every- 
thing that is merely human, even when it is glorified with 
the nimbus of a poetic ideality and a mythical past, yet, 
seen in the bird's-eye perspective of a pure moral ideality, 
appears very small." All this may seem as super-refine- 
ment, in which the critic pretends to see farther than the 
poet ever saw. But to such an objection there is a very 
plain answer. A certain result is produced: — is the result 
correctly described? If it be so, is that result an effect 
of principle or an effect of chance? As a proof that it 
was the effect of principle, we may say that Dryden did 
not see the principle ; and that, not seeing it, he entirely 
changed the character of the play as a work of art. — 
Knight, Pictorial Shakspere. 

MORALS 

Since the change in the moral tone and thought of the 
times requires expurgated editions, the morality of Shake- 
speare's plays has sometimes been questioned. That he is 
a moralizer no one will claim ; that he is thoroughly moral 
we think must be evident to every careful student. If he 
is to paint life universal and complete, he cannot eschew 
immoral characters, but he can, and does show his moral- 
ity in the handling of these characters ; he never paints 
them in such attractive colors as to make them models for 
imitation, in each case the character must sustain itself ; 
as Ian Maclaren says, "If Posty will tell lies, I cannot help 
it." If it is necessary to expose a hideous phase of life, 
xiv 



Comments THOILUS AND CRESSIDA 

that it may be condemned and thus serve as a lesson, Shake- 
speare does not hesitate to do it. Vice may be pardoned, 
not condoned. Even in his liberahty which the extremely 
fastidious might fancy tends to looseness, he never mixes 
vice and virtue. — Fekris-Gettemy, Outline Studies in the 
Shakespearean Drama. 



xlvi 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

Priam, king of Troy 

Hector, -» 

Troilus, 

Paris, L^j* sons 

Deiphobds, I 

Helenus, J 

Margarei.on, a bastard son of Priam 

AnteI^or,} ^''^^'"'* ^^"'*"""'^^''* 

Calchas, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks 

Pandarus, uncle to Cressida 

Agamemnon, the Grecian general 

Menelaus, his brother 

Achilles, 

Ajax, 

Ulysses, 

Nestor, 

Diomedes, 

Patroclus, 

Thersites, a deformed and sciirrilons Grecian 

Alexander, servant to Cressida 

Servant to Troilus 

Servant to Paris 

Servant to Diomedes 

Helen, wife to Menelaus 

Andromache, wife to Hector 

Cassandra, daughter to Priam; a prophetess 

Cressida, daughter to Calchas 

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants 

Scene: Troy, and the Grecian camp 



Grecian commanders 



SYNOPSIS 

By J. Ellis Burdice 



The Greeks are besieging Troy in an endeavor to re- 
store the beautiful Helen to King Menelaus, her rightful 
husband. Troilus, son of Priam, king of Troy, is in. 
love with Cressida, and he persuades her uncle Pandarus 
to intercede for him. A truce exists between the two 
armies at this time and Hector of Troy sends a challenge 
to the Greeks, daring any one of their champions to meet 
him in single combat. 



The Greeks propose to raise the siege on condition that 
Helen be returned to them and that a war indemnity be 
paid them. The Trojans reject the terms. The Grecian 
generals seek an interview with Achilles, their best warrior, 
but he refuses to see them, preferring to sulk in his tent. 
Therefore they are forced to select Ajax to fight with 
Hector. 



Pandarus is successful in his intercessions with Cressida 
in behalf of Troilus. He brings them together, they 
plight their troth, and resolve to live together. But Cres- 
sida's father, who has "incurred a traitor's name," per- 
suades the Greeks to ask for his daughter in exchange for 
a Trojan leader held prisoner by them. They consent. 



Synopsis TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Diomedes is commissioned to arrange the exchange and 
on the morning following her nuptial night, Cressida is 
taken to the Grecian camp. She parts from Troilus with 
oft-repeated promises of fidelity. Ajax and Hector meet 
and fight, but after a few blows they stop on account of 
kinship. The Greek and Trojan generals exchange cour- 
tesies. 

ACT V 

At the request of Troilus, Ulysses, one of the Greek gen- 
erals, leads him to Cressida's tent in the Greek encamp- 
ment. There he sees how faithless she has been to him, 
for she has transferred her affections to Diomedes. Dur- 
ing the battle the next day Troilus anni Diomedes fight but 
without serious injury to either. In this same battle Hec- 
tor kills Patroclus, an intimate friend of Achilles ; the lat- 
ter is enraged and throwing himself into the fray, he slays 
Hector and drags his dead body around the battlefield 
tied to his horse's tail. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



THE PROLOGUE 

In Troy there lies the scene. From isles of 

Greece 
The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed. 
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships, 
Fraught with the ministers and instruments 
Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore 
Their crownets- regal, from the Athenian bay 
Put forth toward Phrygia, and their vow is 

made 
To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures 
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen, 
With wanton Paris sleeps ; and that 's the quar- 
rel. 10 
To Tenedos they come; 

And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge 
Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan 

plains 
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch 
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city, 
Dardan, and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, 

15. "six-gated city"; Theobald, "six gates V th' city." — I. G. 

16. "Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien," so Ff.; Theobald reads 
"Thymbria, Ilia, Sccefi, Troian"; Capell, "Thymbria, Ilias, Chetas, 
Troyan." — I. G, 



Prologue TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

And Antenorides, with massy staples, 

And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, 

Sperr up the sons of Troy. 

Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, 20 

On one and other side, Trojan and Greek, 

Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come 

A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence 

Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited 

In like conditions as our argument. 

To tell you, fair beholders, that our play 

Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those 

broils. 
Beginning in the middle; starting thence away 
To what may be digested in a play. 
Like, or find fault ; do as your pleasures are : 30 
Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. 

17. "Antenorides"; Theobald's emendation of Ff. " Anteno nidus" : 
Pope reads "Anteroridas." — I. G. 

33. "A prologue arm'd"; i. e. clad in armor instead of in a black 
cloak, which was the usual garb of the speaker of the Prologue. — 
I. G. 

23-25. "not in confidence of author's pen" etc.; not in deiiant 
championship of the merits of the play, but because the argument 
is of war.— C. H. H. 

28. "Beginning in the middle"; Theobald reads "'Ginning i' th' 
middle." — I. G. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act l. Sc. i 



ACT FIRST 

Scene I 

Troy. Before Priam's palace. 
Enter Pandarus and Troilus. 

Tro. Call here my varlet; I '11 unarm again: 
Why should I war without the walls of Troy, 
That find such cruel battle here within? 
Each Trojan that is master of his heart, 
Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none! 

Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended? 

Tro. The Greeks are strong and skillful to their 
strength, 
Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness yal- 

iant. 
But I am weaker than a woman's tear, 
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, 10 
Less valiant than the virgin in the night. 
And skilless as unpracticed infancy. 

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this : for 
my part, I '11 not meddle nor make no 
farther. He that will have a cake out of 
the wheat must needs tarry the grinding. 

Tro. Have I not tarried? 

Pan. Aye, the grinding; but you must tarry the 
bolting. 

7 



Act I. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Tro. Have I not tarried? 

Pan. Aye, the bolting; but you must tarry the 
leavening. 20 

Tro. Still have I tarried. 

Pan. Aye, to the leavening ; but here 's yet in 
the word 'hereafter,' the kneading, the mak- 
ing of the cake, the heating of the oven, and 
the baking ; nay, you' must stay the cooling 
too, or you may chance to burn your lips. 

Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be. 
Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. 
At Priam's royal table do I sit; 
And when fair Cressid comes into my 
thoughts, — 30 

So, traitor! — 'When she comes!' — When is she 
thence? 

Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than 
ever I saw her look, or any woman else. 

Tro. I was about to tell thee: — when my heart. 
As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, 
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, 
I have, as when the sun doth light a storm. 
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile: 
But sorrow, that is crouch' d in seeming glad- 
ness, 
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sad- 
ness. 40 

Pan. An her hair were not sonjewhat darker 

31. "So, traitor! — 'When she comes!' — When is she thence?"; Q., 
"So traitor then site comes when she is thence"; Ff., "So (Traitor) 
then she comes, when she is thence." — I. G. 

37. "a storm"; Rowe's correction of Q., "a scorne"; Ff. 1, 2, 
"a-scorne"; Ff. 3, 4, "a-scorn." — I. G. 
3 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. i 

than Helen's — well, go to — there were no 
more comparison between the women: but, 
for my part, she is my kinswoman ; I would 
not, as they term it, praise her : but I would 
somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I 
did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassan- 
dra's wit, but — 
Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus, — 

When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd, 
Reply not in how many fathoms deep 51 

They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad 
In Cressid's love: thou answer'st 'she is fair;' 
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart 
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her 

voice. 
Handiest in thy discourse, O, that her hand. 
In whose comparison all whites are ink 
Writing their own reproach, to whose soft 

seizure 
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense 
Hard as the palm of plowman: this thou tell'st 

me, 60 

As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her ; 
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm. 
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given 

me 
The knife that made it. 

45. "praise her"; so«Q.; Ff. read "praise it." — I. G. 

56. "Handiest in thy discourse, O, that her hand," &c.; Theobald, 
'discourse — how white her hand"; similar emendations have been 
proposed, but probably "that her ftanci"="that hand of hers." — I. G. 

58. "seizure" ; clasp. — C. H. H. 

59. "spirit of sense"; the finest, most delicate, sensibility. — C, H. H. 



Act I. Sc. i. iTROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Pan. I speak no more than truth. 

Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. 

Pan. Faith, I '11 not meddle in 't. Let her be as 
she is: if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; 
an she be not, she has the mends in her own 
hands. 70 

Tro. Good Pandarus, how now, P^ndarus ! 

Pan. I have had my labor for my travail; ill- 
thought on of her, and ill-thought on of , 
you: gone between and between, but small 
thanks for my labor. 

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, 
with me? 

Pan. Because she 's kin to me, therefore she 's 
not so fair as Helen : an she were not kin to 
me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen 80 
is on Sunday. But what care I? I care 
not an she were a black-a-moor ; 'tis all one 
to me. 

Tro. Say I she is not fair? 

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. 
She 's a fool to stay behind her father; let 
her to the Greeks; and so I '11 tell her the 
next time I see her : for my part, I '11 meddle 
nor make no more i' the matter. 

80. "as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday"; i. e., as beautiful 
in her worst dress as Helen in her "Sunday best." — I. G. 

86. "to slay behind her father"; Calchas,, according to the De- 
struction of Troy, was "a great learned bishop of Troy," who was 
sent by Priam to consult the oracle of Delphi concerning the event 
of the war which threatened Agamemnon. As soon as he had made 
"his oblations and demands for them of Troy, Apollo answered unto 
him saying, Calcas, Calcas, beware thou returne not back againe 
to Troy, but goe thou with Achylles unto the Greekes, and depart 

10 



TROILUS AND CEESSIDA Act l. Sc. L 

Tro. Pandarus, — 90 

Pan. Not I. 

Tro. Sweet Pandarus, — 

Tan. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will 
leave all as I found it, and there an end. 

[Exit. An alarum. 

Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamors! peace, rude 
sounds ! 
Fools on both sides ! Helen must needs be fair, 
When with your blood you daily paint her thus. 
I cannot fight upon this argument; 
It is too starved a subject for my sword. 
But Pandarus — O gods, how do you plague 
me! 100 

I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar ; 
And he 's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo 
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. 
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love. 
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we. 
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl: 
Between our Ilium and where she resides. 
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood, 

never from them, for the Greekes shall have victorie of the Trojans, 
by the agreement of the gods." Likewise in Chaucer's Troilus and 
Creseide, Book i.: 

"Now fell it so, that in the toune there was 
Dwelling a lord of great authoritie, 
A great divine that cleped was Calcas, 
That in science so expert was, that he 
Knew well that Troie should destroyed be. 
By answere of his god." — H. N. H. 

107. "Ilium"; Priam's palace, as distinguished from the town of 
Troy, where Cressida resides. So in Ham. ii. 2. 496. This distinction 
is unknown to antiquity, where Ilium and Troy are synonymous. 
Shakespeare found it in the Troy-hoke. — C. H. H. 
11 



Act I. Sc. ii. ,TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar 
Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark. HO 

Alarum. Enter JEneas. 

JEne, How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not 

afield? 
Tro, Because riot there : this woman's answer sorts, 

For womanish it is to be from thence. 

What news, iEneas, from the field to-day? 
JEne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. 
Tro. By whom, ^neas? 
JEne, Troilus, by Menelaus. 

Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn; 

Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn. \^Alarum. 
JEne, Hark, what good sport is out of town to- 
day! 119 
Tro. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.' 

But to the sport abroad : are you bound thither ? 
AEne. In all swift haste. 

Tro, Come, go we then together. 

{Exeunt. 



Scene II 

The same. A street. 

Enter Cressida and Alexander her man, 

Cres. Who were those went by? 

Alex, Queen Hecuba and Helen. 

Cres. And whither go they? 

Alex, Up to the eastern tower, 

12 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act I. Sc. ii. 

Whose height commands as subject all the vale, 
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience 
Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was moved : 
He chid Andromache and struck his armorer; 
And, like as there were husbandry in war, 
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light, 
And to the field goes he; where every flower 
Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw 10 
In Hector's wrath. 

Cres. What was his cause of anger? 

Alex. The noise goes, this: there is among the 
Greeks 
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector; 
They call him Ajax. 

Cres. Good; and what of him? 

Alex. They say he is a very man per se. 

And stands alone. 

Cres. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, 
or have no legs. 

Alex. This man, lady, hath robbed many 
beasts of their particular additions ; he is as 20 
valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, slow 
as the elephant: a man into whom nature 
hath so crowded humors that his valor is 
crushed into folly, his folly sauced with dis- 
cretion : there is no man hath a virtue tha^ he 
hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an at- 
taint but he carries some stain of it: he is 
melancholy without cause and merry against 
the hair: he hath the joints of every thing; 
but every thing so out of joint that he is a 30 

29. "joints"; limbs.— C. H. H. 
7fi 13 



Act L Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or 
purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. 

Cres. But how should this man, that makes me 
smile, make Hector angry? 

Alex. They say he yesterday coped Hector in 
the battle and struck him down, the disdain 
and shame whereof hath ever since kept 
Hector fasting and waking. 

Enter Pandarus. 

Cres, Who comes here? 

Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. 40 

Cres. Hector 's a gallant man. 

Alex. As may be in the world, lady. 

Pan. What 's that? what 's that? 

Cres. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. 

Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do 

yo^ talk of? Good morrow, Alexander. 

How do you, cousin? When were you at 

Ilium? 
Cres. This morning, uncle. 
Pan. What were you talking of when I came? 50 

Was Hector armed and gone ere you came 

to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she? 
Cres. Hector was gone ; but Helen was not up. 
Pan. E'en so: Hector was stirring early. 
Cres. That were we talking of, and of his 

anger. 
Pan. Was he angry? 
Cres. So he says here. 
Pan. True, he was so ; I know the cause too ; 

14 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act I. Sc. ii. 

he '11 lay about him to-day, I can tell them 60 
that : and there 's Troilus will not come far 
behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, 
I can tell them that too. 

Cres. What, is he angry too? 

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man 
of the two. 

Cres. O Jupiter! there. 's no comparison. 

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? 
Do you know a man if you see him ? 

Cres. Aye, if I ever saw him before and knew 70 
him. 

Pan. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus. 

Cres. Then you say as I say ; for, I am sure, he 
is not Hector. 

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some de- 
grees. 

Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself. 

Pan. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he 
were. 

Cres. So he is. 80 

Pan. Condition, I had gone barefoot to India. 

Cres. He is not Hector. 

Pan. Himself ! no, he 's not himself : would a' 
were himself! Well, the gods are above; 
time must friend or end : well, Troilus, well, 
I would my heart were in her body! No, 
Hector is not a better man than Troilus. 

Cres. Excuse me. 

Pan. He is elder. 

Cres, Pardon me, pardon me. 90 

15 



Act I. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Pan. Th' other 's not come to 't ; you shall tell 
me another tale, when th' other 's come to 't. 
Hector shall not have his wit this year. 

Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own. 

Pan. Nor his qualities. 

Cres. No matter. 

Pan. Nor his beauty. 

Cres. 'T would not become him ; his own 's better. 

Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen her- 
self swore th' other day, that Troilus, for a 100 
brown favor — for so 'tis, I must confess, — 
not brown neither, — 

Cres. No, but brown. 

Pan. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. 

Cres. To say the truth, true and not true. 

Pan. She praised his complexion above Paris. 

Cres. Why, Paris hath color enough. 

Pan So he has. 

Cres. Then Troilus should have too much: if 
she praised him above, his complexion is HO 
higher than his ; he having color enough, and 
the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a 
good complexion. I had as lief Helen's 
golden tongue had commended Troilus for 
a copper nose. 

Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him 
better than Paris. 

Cres. Then she 's a merry Greek indeed. 

Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to 
him th' other day into the compassed win- 120 
dow,— and, you know, he has not past three 
or four hairs on his chin, — 
16 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. ii. 

Cres. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon 

bring his particulars therein to a total. 
Pan. Why, he is very young: and yet will he, 

within three pound, lift as much as his 

brother Hector. 
Cres. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter ? 
Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen loves 

him : she came and puts me her white hand 130 

to his cloven chin, — 
Cres. Juno have mercy! how came it cloven? 
Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think 

his smiling becomes him better than any man 

in all Phrygia. 
Cres. O, he smiles valiantly. 
Pan. Does he not? 

Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. 
Pan. Why, go to, then: but to prove to you 

that Helen loves Troilus, — 140 

Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you '11 

prove it so. 
Pan. Troilus ! why, he esteems her no more than 

I esteem an addle egg. 
Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you 

love an idle head, you would eat chickens 

i' the shell. 
Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how 

she tickled his chin; indeed, she has a mar- 
velous white hand, I must needs confess, — 150 
Cres. Without the rack. 
Pan. .And she takes upon her to spy a white 

hair on his chin. 
Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. 

XXII— 2 17 



Act I. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Pa7i. But there was such laughing ! Queen Hec- 
uba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er. 

Cres. With mill-stones. 

Pan. And Cassandra laughed. 

Cres. But there was more temperate fire under 
the pot of her eyes : did her eyes run o'er too? 160 

Pan. And Hector laughed. 

Cres. At what was all this laughing? 

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied 
on Troilus' chin. 

Cres. An 't had been a green hair, I should 
have laughed too. 

Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair as 
at his pretty answer. 

Cres. What was^his answer? 

Pan. Quoth she, 'Here 's but two and fifty hairs 170 
on your chin, and one of them is white.' 

Cres. This is her question. 

Pan. That 's true ; make no question of that. 
'Two and fifty hairs,' quoth he, 'and one 
white: that white hair is my father, and all 
the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she, 
'which of these hairs is Paris my husband?' 
'The forked one,' quoth he, 'pluck 't out, and 
give it him.' But there was such laughing! 
and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, 180 
and all the rest so laughed, that it passed. 

Cres. So let it now ; for it has been a great while 
going by. 

170. "two and fifty"; so Q., Ff.; Theobald reads "one and fifty": 
"hairs"; Q. reads "heires." — I. G. 

181. "so laughed,' that it passed"; laughed surpassingly, immod- 
erately.— C. H, H. 

18 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act I. Sc. H. 

Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yester- 
day; think on't. 

Cres. So I do. 

Pan. I '11 be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, 
an 'twere a man born in April. 

Cres. And I '11 spring up in his tears, an 'twere 
a nettle against May. [A retreat sounded. 190 

Pan. Hark! they are coming from the field: 
shall we stand up here, and see them as they 
pass toward Ilium? good niece, do, sweet 
niece Cressida. 

Cres. At your pleasure. 

Pan. Here, here, here 's an excellent place ; here 
we may see most bravely : I '11 tell you them 
all by their names as they pass by; but mark 
Troilus above the rest. 

Mneas passes, 

Cres. Speak not so loud. 200 

Pan. That 's ^Eneas: is not that a brave man? 
he 's one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell 
you: but mark Troilus; you shall see anon. 
Cres. Who's that? 

Antenor passes. 

Pan. That 's Antenor : he has a shrewd wit, I 

205. "he has a shrewd toil"; in the Troy Book of Lydgate, Antenor 
is thus described: 

"Copious in words, and one that much time spent 
To jest, when as he was in companie, 
So driely, that no man could it espie; 
And therewith held his countenance so well, 

That every man received great content 
To heare him speake, and pretty jests to tell, 
19 



Act I. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

can tell you ; and he 's a man good enough : 
he 's one o' the soundest judgments in Troy, 
whosoever, and a proper man of person. 
When comes Troilus? I '11 show you Troi- 
lus anon : if he see me, you shall see him nod 210 
at me. 

Cres. Will he give you the nod? 

Pan. You shall see. 

Cres. If he do, the rich shall have more. 

Hector passes. 

Pan. That 's Hector, that, that, look you that; 
there 's a fellow ! Go thy way. Hector ! 
There 's a brave man, niece. O brave Hec- 
tor ! Look how he looks 1 there 's a counte- 
nance! is 't not a brave man? 

Cres. O, a brave man! 220 

Pan. Is a* not? it does a man's heart good. 
Look you what hacks are on his helmet ! look 
you yonder, do you see? look you there: 
there 's no jesting; there 's laying on, take 't 
off who will, as they say : there be hacks ! 

Cres. Be those with swords? 

Pan. Swords! any thing, he cares not; an the 
devil come to him, it 's all one : by God's lid, 
it does one's heart good. Yonder comes 
Paris, yonder comes Paris. 230 

Paris passes. 
Look ye yonder, niece ; is 't not a gallant man 

When he was pleasant and in merriment: 
For tho' that he most commonly was sad, 
Yet in hi? speech some jest he always had." — H. N. H. 
20 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act L Sc. ii. 

too, is 't not? Why, this is brave now. 
Who said he came hurt home to-day? he 's 
not hurt: why, this will do Helen's heart 
good now, ha! Would I could see Troilus 
now! you shall see Troilus anon. 
Cres, Who's that? 

Helenus passes. 

Pan. That's Helenus: I marvel where Troilus 

is. That 's Helenus. I think he went not . 

forth to-day. That 's Helenus. 240 

Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? 
Pan. Helenus ! no ; yes, he '11 fight indifferent 

well. I marvel where Troilus is. Hark! 

do you not hear the people cry 'Troilus'? 

Helenus is a priest. 
Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? 

Troilus passes. 

Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis 
Troilus ! there 's a man, niece ! Hem ! Brave 
Troilus! the prince of chivalry! 
Cres. Peace, for shame, peace ! 250 

Pan. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! 
Look well upon him, niece ; look you how his 
sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked 
than Hector's; and how he looks, and how 
he goes! O admirable youth! he never saw 
three-and- twenty. Go thy waj^ Troilus, go 
thy way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a 
daughter a goddess, he should take his 
choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris 

21 



Act I. Sc. ii. TEOILUS AND CEESSIDA 

is dirt to him ; and, I warrant, Helen, to 260 
change, would give an eye to boot. 

Common Soldiers pass. 

Cres. Here come more. 

Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff 
and bran ! porridge after meat ! I could live 
and die i' the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, 
ne'er look; the eagles are gone: crows and 
daws, crows and daws! I had rather be 
such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and 
all Greece. 

Cres. There is among the Greeks Achilles, a 270 
better man than Troilus. 

Pan. Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a very 
camel. 

Cres. Well, well. 

Pan. Well, well! Why, have you any discre- 
tion? have you any eyes? do you know what 
a man is ? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, 
discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, 
virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the 
spice and salt that season a man? 280 

Cres. Aye, a minced man : and then to be baked 
with no date in the pie, for then the man's 
date is out. 

Pan. You are such a woman ! one knows not at 
what ward you lie. 

Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly ; upon 
my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my se- 

261. "an eye"; so Q.; Ff. read "money"; Collier conj» "one eye,'' 
—I. G. 

22 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. ii. 

crecy, to defend mine honesty ; my mask, to 
defend my beauty; and you, to defend all 
these : and at all these wards I lie, at a thou- 290 
sand watches. 

Pan. Say one of your watches. 

Cres. Nay, I '11 watch you for that ; and that 'c 
one of the chief est of them too : if I cannot 
ward what I would not have hit, I can watch 
you for telling how I took the blow; unless 
it swell past hiding, and then it 's past watch- 
ing. 

Pan, You are such another. 

Enter Troilus's Boy. 

Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with 300 

you. 
Pan. Where? 

Boy. At your own house ; there he unarms him. 
Pan. Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy. 

I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good 

niece. 
Cres. Adieu, uncle. 

Pan. I will be with you, niece, by and by. 
Cres. To bring, uncle? 

Pan. Aye, a token from Troilus. 310 

Cres. By the same token, you are a bawd. 

[Exeunt Pandarus. 

Words, vows, gifts, tears and love's full sac- 
rifice. 

He offers in another's enterprise : 

993. "watch you for telling"; watch lest you tell. — C. H. H. 
.305. "doubt he he"; fear he is.— C. H. H. 
23 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

But more in Troilus thousand fold I see 
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be ; 
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing : 
Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the do- 
ing: 
That she beloved knows nought that knows not 

this: 
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is : 
That she was never yet that ever knew 320 

Love got so sweet as when desire did sue : 
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach : 
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech. 
Then though my heart's content firm love doth 

bear. 
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. 

\_Eajeunt. 

Scene III 

The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon s tent. 

Sennet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor , Ulysses, 
Menelaus, with others. 

A gam. Princes, 

What grief hath set the jaundice on your 

cheeks? 
The ample proposition that hope makes 

316. "wooing"; i. e. while still unwon. — C. H. H. 

317. "joy's soul lies in the doing," so Q., F. 1; Ff. 2, 3, 4 read 
"the soules joy lyes in dooing." Mason conj. "dies"; Seymour conj. 
"lives," &c. — I. G. 

323. "Achievement is command," etc.; when we are won we receive 
command, while unwon, entreaties. — C. H. H. 
24 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. iii. 

In all designs begun on earth below 
Fails in the promised largeness ; checks and dis- 
asters 
Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd, 
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, 
Infect the sound pine and divert his grain 
Tortive and errant from his course of growth. 
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us 10 

That we come short of our suppose so far 
That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls 

stand ; 
Sith every action that hath gone before, 
Whereof we have record, trial did draw 
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim 
And that unbodied figure of the thought 
That gave 't surmised shape. Why then, you 

princes. 
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works. 
And call them shames? which are indeed nought 

else 
But the protractive trials of great Jove 20 

To find persistive constancy in men : 
The fineness of which metal is not found 
In fortune's love ; for then the bold and. coward, 
The wise and fool, the artist and unread. 
The hard and soft, seem all afiined and kin : 
But in the wind and tempest of her frown. 
Distinction with a broad and powerful fan, 
Puffing at all, winnows the light away, 
And what hath mass or matter, by itself 
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled. 30 



25 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Nest. With due observance of thy godUke seat, 
Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply 
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance 
Lies the true proof of men: the sea being 

smooth. 
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
Upon her patient breast, making their way 
With those of nobler bulk! 
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 
The gentle Thetis, and anon behold 
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid moun- 
tains cut, 40 
Bounding between the two moist elements, 
Like Perseus' horse : where 's then the saucy 

boat. 
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now 
Co-rival'd greatness? either to harbor fled, 
Or made a toast for Neptune, Even so 
Doth valor's show and valor's worth divide 
In storms of fortune : for in her ray and bright- 
ness 
The herd hath more annoyance by the breese 
Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind 
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, 50 
And flies fled under shade, why then the thing 

of courage 
As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize, 
And with an accent tuned in selfsame key 

31. "thy godlike"; Theobald's emendation; Q., "the godlike"; Ff., 
"thy godly"; Pope, "thy goodly." — I. G. 

52. "with rage does sympathize"; it is said of the tiger that in 
stormy and high winds he rages and roars most furiously. — H. N. H. 

26 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDi^ Act I. Sc. iii. 

Retorts to chiding fortune. 
Ulyss. Agamemnon, 

Thou great commander, nerve and bone of 

Greece, 
Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit, 
In whom the tempers and the minds of all 
Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks. 
Besides the applause and approbation 
The which, [To Agamemnon] most mighty for 
thy place and sway, 60 

[To Nestorl And thou most reverend for thy 

stretch'd-out life, 
I give to both your speeches, which were such 
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece 
Should hold up high in brass, and such again 
As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver. 
Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle- 
tree 
On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish 

ears 
To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both. 
Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak. 
Agam. Speak, Prince of Ithaca; and be 't of less 
expect 70 

That matter needless, of importless burthen, 
Divide thy lips, than we are confident, 
When rank Thersites opes his mastic; jaws, 
We shall hear music, wit and oracle. 

54. "Retorts"; Dyce's emendation; Q., Ff. read "Retires." — I. G. 

70-75. Omitted in Q.— I. G. 

73. "Mastic," perhaps a corrupt form of L. mastigia, a rascal 
that ought to be whipped; later, a scourge; the more usual form 
of the word was "mastix," cp. "Histriomastix." — I, G, 
21 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, 
And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a 

master. 
But for these instances. 
The specialty of rule hath been neglected : 
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand 
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions. 
When that the general is not like the hive 81 
To whom the foragers shall all repair. 
What honey is expected? Degree being viz- 

arded. 
The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. 
The heavens themselves, the planets and this 

center, 
Observe degree, priority and place, 
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, 
Office and custom, in all line of order: 
And therefore is the glorious planet Sol 
In noble eminence enthroned and sphered 90 
Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye 
Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil. 
And posts like the commandment of a king. 
Sans check to good and bad: but when the 

planets 
In evil mixture to disorder wander, 
What plagues and what portents, what mutiny. 
What raging of the sea, shaking of earth. 
Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, 

horrors, 

77. "these instances" ; the following reasons. — C. H. H. 
92. "ill aspects of flanets evil"; so Ff.; Q., "influence of euill 
Planets."— l. G, 

28 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. m. 

Divert and crack, rend and deracinate 

The unity and married calm of states 100 

Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is 

shaked, 
Which is the ladder to all high designs, 
The enterprise is sick! How could commu- 
nities, 
Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities, 
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores. 
The primogenitive and due of birth, 
Prerogative of age, crowns, scepters, laurels. 
But by degree, stand in authentic place? 
Take but degree away, untune that string, 
And, hark, what discord follows! each thing 
meets 110 

In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters 
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores. 
And make a sop of all this solid globe: 
Strength should be lord of imbecility. 
And the rude son should strike his father dead : 
Force should be right; or rather, right and 

wrong. 
Between whose endless jar justice resides. 
Should lose their names, and so should justice 

too. 
Then every thing includes itself in power. 
Power into will, will into appetite; 120 

And appetite, an universal wolf, 
So doubly seconded with will and power. 
Must make perforce an universal prey. 
And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon, 
This chaos, when degree is suffocate, 
29 



Act I. Sc. iii TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Follows the choking. 
And this neglection of degree it is 
That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose 
It hath to climb. The general 's disdain'd 
By him one step below; he by the next; 130 
That next by him beneath: so every step, 
Exampled by the first pace that is sick 
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever 
Of pale and bloodless emulation: 
And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, 
'Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length, 
Troy in our weakness stands, not in her 
strength. 

Nest. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd 
The fever whereof all our power is sick. 

Agam. The nature of the sickness found, Ulys- 
ses, 140 
What is the remedy? 

XJlyss. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns 
The sinew and the forehand of our host, 
Having his ear full of his airy fame. 
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent 
Lies mocking our designs : with him, Patroclus, 
Upon a lazy bed, the livelong day 
Breaks scurril jests; 
And with ridiculous and awkward action. 
Which, slanderer, he imitation calls, 150 

129. "it hath to climb"; of course, where each man strives to 
overtop or kick back his superiors, others will be moved to do the 
same by him, so that his way of climbing will result in a progress 
downwards; as men, by despising the law of their fathers, teach 
their children to despise them. — H. N. H. 
30 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. ill. 

He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamem- 
non, 
Thy topless deputation he puts on; 
And, like a strutting player, whose conceit 
Lies in the hamstring, and doth think it rich 
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound 
'Twixt his stretch' d footing and the scaffold- 
age. 
Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming 
He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks, 
'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms un- 

squared. 
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon 
dropp'd, 160 

Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty 

stuff, 
The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling. 
From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause ; 
Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just. 
Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy 

beard. 
As he being dress'd to some oration.' 
That 's done ; as near as the extremest ends 
Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife: 
Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent! 
'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patro- 
clus, 170 

Arming to answer in a night alarm.' 
And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age 
Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit, 

153. "conceit"; imagination. — C. H. H. 
31 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

And, with a palsy fumbling on his gorget, 
Shake in and out the rivet : and at this sport 
Sir Valor dies ; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus ; 
Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all 
In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion, 
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, 
Severals and generals of grace exact, 180 

Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, 
Excitements to the field or speech for truce. 
Success or loss, what is or is not, serves 
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. 

Nest. And in the imitation of these twain. 
Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns 
With an imperial voice, many are infect. 
Ajax is grown self -will' d, and bears his head 
In such a rein, in full as proud a place 
As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him; 190 
Makes factious feasts ; rails on our state of war 
Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites, 
A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint. 
To match us in comparisons with dirt. 
To weaken and discredit our exposure. 
How rank soever rounded in with danger. 

Ulyss. They tax our policy and call it cowardice, 
Count wisdom as no member of the war. 
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act • 
But that of hand : the still and mental parts 200 
That do contrive how many hands shall strike 
When fitness calls them on, and know by 
measure 

195. "weaken and discredit our exposure"; weaken, by discrediting 
us, our ability to resist the assaults to which we are exposed. — 
C. H. H. 

32 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. m. 

Of their observant toil the enemies' weight, — 
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity; 
They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war: 
So that the ram that batters down the wall, 
Fer the great swing and rudeness of his poise, 
They place before his hand that made the en- 
gine. 
Or those that with the fineness of their souls 
By reason guide his execution. 210 

Nest. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse 
Makes many Thetis' sons. [Tucket. 

A gam. What trumpet? look, Menelaus. 

Men. From Troy. 

Enter Mneas. 

A gam. What would you 'fore our tent? 

^ne. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you? 

Agam. Even this. 

\^ne. May one that is a herald and a prince 

Do a fair message to his kingly ears? 
Agam. With surety stronger than Achilles' 
arm 220 

'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one 
voice 

Call Agamemnon head and general. 
JEne. Fair leave and large security. How may 

A stranger to those most imperial looks 

Know them from eyes of other mortals? 
Agam. How! 

Mne. Aye: 

I ask, that I might waken reverence, 

220. "Achilles'"; Johnson conj. "Alciaes'." — I. G. 
XXII— 3 33 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

And bid the cheek be ready with a blush 
Modest as morning when she coldly eyes 
The youthful Phoebus : 230 

Which is that god in office, guiding men? 
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? 
A gam. This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy 

Are ceremonious courtiers. 
u^ne. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd, 
As bending angels ; that 's their fame in peace : 
But when they would seem soldiers, they have 

galls. 
Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, 

Jove's accord, 
Nothing so full of heart. But peace, ^neas. 
Peace, Trojan ; lay thy finger on thy lips ! 240 
The worthiness of praise distains his worth. 
If that the praised himself bring the praise 

forth: 
But what the repining enemy commends. 
That breath fame blows ; that praise, sole pure, 
transcends. 
A gam. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself ^neas? 
JEne. Aye, Greek, that is my name. 
A gam. What 's your affair, I pray you? 
^jue. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. 
A gam. He hears nought privately that comes from 

Troy. 
^ne. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper 
him: 250 

238. "And, Jove's accord," i. e. "And, Jove granting or favoring"; 
various emendations have been proposed on the supposition that the 
passage is corrupt. — I. G. 

243. "repining"; i. e. mortified by defeat. — C. H. H. 
34 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act I. Sc. iii. 

I bring a trumpet to awake his ear, 
To set his sense on the attentive bent, 
And then to speak. 
A gam. Speak frankly as the wind ; 

It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour: 
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake. 
He tells thee so himself. 
JEne. Trumpet, blow loud, 

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy 

tents ; 
And every Greek of mettle, let him know. 
What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud. 

[Trumpet sounds. 
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy 260 
A prince call'd Hector — Priam is his father — 
Who in this dull and long-continued truce 
Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet. 
And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, 

lords ! 
If there be one among the fair'st of Greece 
That holds his honor higher than his ease. 
That seeks his praise more than he fears his 

peril, 
That knows his valor and knows not his fear. 
That loves his mistress more than in confession 

269. "confession" is used for profession; a profession of love 
falsely or idiy made to the object. — Steevens, with his usual sa- 
gacity and pertinence, remarks upon the Poet's anachronism in 
putting this challenge in a style more suitable to Palmerin or 
Amadis, than to Hector or J5neas, Just as if the whole play were 
not a binding up of the characters and incidents of classic times 
with the manners and sentiments of Gothic chivalry. Shakespeare 
learned this from the romance-writers, and from none more than 
from Chaucer, who, nevertheless, seems to have known that Greece 

S5 



Act I. Sc. iii, TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

With truant vows to her own hps he loves, 270 

And dare avow her beauty and her worth 

In other arms than hers — to him this challenge. 

Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks, 

Shall make it good, or do his best to do it, 

He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer. 

Than ever Greek did compass in his arms; 

And will to-morrow with his trumpet call 

Midway between your tents and walls of Troy, 

To rouse a Grecian that is true in love: 

If any come. Hector shall honor him; 280 

If none, he '11 say in Troy when he retires. 

The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth 

The splinter of a lance. Even so much. 

was neither a Gothic nor a Christian nation.— The incident of the 
challenge was most likely taken from Chapman's Homer, where 
it is represented thus: , 

"Hear, Trojans, and ye well-arm'd Greeks, what my strong mind, 

ditfus'd 
Through all my spirits, commands me speak: Saturnius hath not 

us'd 
His promis'd favour for our truce; but, studying both our ills, 
Will never cease till Mars, by you, his ravenous stomach fills 
With ruin'd Troy; or we consume your mighty sea-born fleet. 
Since, then, the general peers of Greece in reach of one voice 

meet. 
Amongst you all whose breast includes the most impulsive mind. 
Let him stand forth as combatant, by all the rest design'd; 
Before whom thus I call high Jove to witness of our strife: 
If he with home-thrust iron can reach th' exposure of my life. 
Spoiling my arms, let him at will convey them to his tent; 
But let my body be return'd, that Troy's two-sex'd descent 
May waste it in the funeral pile: if I can slaughter him, 
Apollo honouring me so much, I'll spoil his conquer'd limb. 
And bear his arms to Ilion, where in Apollo's shrine 
I'll hang them as my tropliies due; his body I'll resign. 
To be disposed by his friends in flamy funerals, 
And honour'd with erected tomb where Hellespontus falls 
Into Egaeum, and doth reach even to your naval road." — H. N. H. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act I. Sc. m. 

Agam. This shall be told our lovers, Lord ^neas; 
If none of them have soul in such a kind, 
We left them all at home : but we are soldiers ; 
And may that soldier a mere recreant prove, 
That means not, hath not, or is not in love ! 
If then one is, or hath, or means to be. 
That one meets Hector; if none else, I am 
he. 290 

Nest. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man 
When Hector's grandsire suck'd : he is old now ; 
But if there be not in our Grecian host 
One noble man that hath one spark of fire. 
To answer for his love, tell hun from me 
1 11 hide my silver beard in a gold beaver, 
And in my vantbrace put this wither' d brawn, 
And meeting him will tell him that my lady 
Was fairer than his grandam, and as chaste 
As may be in the world : his youth in flood, 300 
I '11 prove this truth with my three drops of 
blood. 

^ne. Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth! 

JJlyss. Amen. 

Agam. Fair Lord ^neas, let me touch your hand ; 
To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir. 
Achilles shall have word of this intent; 
So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent : 
Yourself shall feast with us before you go. 
And find the welcome of a noble foe. 

[Exeunt all hut Ulysses and Nestor. 

Ulyss. Nestor! 310 

Nest. What says Ulysses? 

Ulyss. I have a young conception in my brain, 
37 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Be you my time to bring it to some shape. 

Nest. What is 't? 

Ulyss. This 'tis: 

Blunt wedges rive hard knots : the seeded pride 
That hath to this maturity blown up 
In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd, 
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil. 
To overbulk us all. 

Nest. Well, and how? 320 

Ulyss. This challenge that the gallant Hector 
sends. 
However it is spread in general name. 
Relates in purpose only to Achilles. 

Nest. The purpose is perspicuous even as sub- 
stance, 
Whose grossness little characters sum up: 
And, in the publication, make no strain. 
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren 
As banks of Libya, — ^though, Apollo knows, 
'Tis dry enough — will, with great speed of 

judgment; 
Aye, with celerity, find Hector's purpose 330 
Pointing on him. 

Ulyss. And wake him to the answer, think you? 

Nest. Yes, 'tis most meet: who majr you else op- 
pose. 
That can from Hector bring his honor off, 

313. "Be you my time"; i. e. play the part of time in bringing it 
to mature form. — C. H. H. 

315, 354-356. Omitted in Q,— I. G. 

326. "in the publication"; when the challenge is publicly pro- 
claimed.— C. H, H. 



38 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act L Sc. iii 

If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful com- 
bat, 
Yet in this trial much opinion dwells; 
For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute 
With their finest palate : and trust to me, Ulys- 
ses, 
Our imputation shall be oddly poised 
In this wild action; for the success, 340 

Although particular, shall give a scantling 
Of good or bad unto the general; 
And in such indexes, although small pricks 
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen 
The baby figure of the giant mass 
Of things to come at large. It is supposed 
He that meets Hector issues from our choice: 
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls. 
Makes merit her election, and doth boil. 
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd 350 
Out of our virtues ; who miscarrying. 
What heart from hence receives the conquering 

part. 
To steel a strong opinion to themselves? 
Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments. 
In no less working than are swords and bows 
Directive by the limbs. 

337. "dear'st"; highest, most precious. — C. H. H. 

339. "our im'piitation" ; our reputation will weigh unevenly in the 
fight, i. e. will not be unaffected by the triumph or failure of our 
champion. — C. H. H. 

340. "toild"; irregular, extraordinary. — C. H. H. 
342. "general"; the whole community. — C. H. H, 
349, "her election"; the object of choice. — C. H. H. 

354. "which entertained" ; the strong self-confidence once begot- 
ten.— C. H. H. 

39 



Act I. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. Give pardon to my speech; 

Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector. 
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares, 
And think, perchance, they '11 sell ; if not, 360 
The luster of the better yet to show. 
Shall show the better. Do not consent 
That ever Hector and Achilles meet; 
For both our honor and our shame in this 
Are dogg'd with two strange followers. 
Nest. I see them not with my old eyes: what are 

they? 
Ulyss. What glory our Achilles shares from 

Hector, 
Were he not proud, we all should share with 

him: 
But he already is too insolent; 
And we were better parch in Afric sun 370 
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes, 
Should he 'scape Hector fair : if he were f oil'd 
Why then, we did our main opinion crush 
In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery ; 
And by device let blockish Ajax draw 
The sort to fight with Hector : among ourselves 
Give him allowance for the better man ; 
For that will physic the great Myrmidon 
Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall 
His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends. 380 
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off. 
We '11 dress him up in voices : if he fail. 
Yet go we under our opinion still 
That we have better men. But, hit or miss. 
Our project's life this shape of sense assumes, 

40 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act i. Sc. ui. 

Ajax employ 'd plucks down Achilles' j)lumes. 
Nest. Ulysses, 

Now I begin to relish thy advice ; 
And I will give a taste of it forthwith 
To Agamemnon: go we to him straight. 390 
Two curs shall tame each other : pride alone 
Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone. 

lEa^eunt. 



41 



Act IL Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



ACT SECOND 

Scene I 

The Grecian camp. 
Enter A jaw and Thersites. 

Ajaoo. Thersites! 

Tlier. Agamemnon — how if he had boils — full, all 
over, generally? 

AjaoG. Thersites! 

Ther. And those boils did run? — Say so, — did 
not the general run then? were not that a 
botchy core? 

Ajacv. Dog! 

Ther. Then would come some matter from him ; 
I see none now. 10 

Ajaac. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not 

hear? Feel, then. [Strikes him. 

Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou 
mongrel beef-witted lord ! 

Ajaw. Speak then, thou vinewed'st leaven, 
speak: I will beat thee into handsomeness. 

Ther. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holi- 
ness: but, I think, thy horse will sooner con 
an oration than thou learn a prayer without 
book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? a red 20 
murrain o' thy jade's tricks! 

42 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ll. Sc. i. 

Ajax. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation. 

Ther. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou 
strikest me thus? 

Ajacc. The proclamation ! 

Ther. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think. 

Ajax. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers 
itch. 

Ther. I would thou didst itch from head to 
foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I 30 
would make thee the loathsomest scab in 
Greece. When thou art forth in the incur- 
sions, thou strikest as slow as another. 

Ajax. I say, the proclamation! 

Ther. Thou grumblest and railest every hour 
on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at 
his greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina's 
beauty, aye, that thou barkest at him. 

Ajax. Mistress Thersites! 

Ther. Thou shouldst strike him. 40 

Ajax. Cobloaf! 

Ther. He would pun thee into shivers with his 
fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit. 

Ajax. [Beating him'] You whoreson cur! 

Ther. Do, do. 

Ajax. Thou stool for a witch! 

Ther. Aye, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! 
thou hast no more brain than I have in mine 
elbows; an assinego may tutor thee: thou 
scurvy-valiant ass! thou art here but to 5G 
thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and 
sold among those of any wit, like a barba- 

32-33. Omitted in Ff.— I. G. 
43 



Act II. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CEESSIDA 

rian slave. If thou use to beat me, I will 
begin at thy heel and tell what thou art by- 
inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou! 

Ajacc. You dog! 

Ther. You scurvy lord! 

Ajax. [Beating hiTri] You cur ! 

Ther. Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel, 
do, do. 60 

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, 

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do ye 
thus ? How now, Thersites ! what 's the mat- 
ter, man? 

Ther. You see him there, do you? 

Achil. Aye; what 's the matter? 

Ther. Nay, look upon him. 

Achil. So I do: what 's the matter? 

Ther. Nay, but regard him well. 

Achil. 'Well!' why, so I do. 

Ther, But yet you look not well upon him; for, 70 
whosoever you take him to be, he is Ajax. 

Achil. I know that, fool. 

Ther. Aye, but that fool knows not himself. 

Ajax. Therefore I beat thee. 

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he 
utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I 
have bobbed his brain more than he has beat 
my bones: I will buy nine sparrows for a 
penny, and his pia mater is not worth the 
ninth part of a sparrow. This lord, 80 
Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in his 



44 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act n. Sc. i. 

belly and his guts in his head, I '11 tell you 

what I say of him. 
AchU. What? 

Ther. I say, this Ajax — \_Ajax offers to strike him. 
Achil. Nay, good Ajax. 
Ther, Has not so much wit — 
Achil, Nay, I must hold you. 
Ther, As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, 

for whom he comes to fight. 90 

Achil, Peace, fool! 
Ther, I would have peace and quietness, but 

the fool will not: he there: that he: look you 

there ! 
Ajax. O thou damned cur! I shall — 
Achil, Will you set your wit to a fool's? 
Ther, No, I warrant you; for a fool's will 

shame it. 
Pair, Good words, Thersites. 

99. "Thersites"; for the character of Thersites Shakespeare prob- 
ably took a general hint from Chapman's Homer; there being noth- 
ing of him in Chaucer, or Caxton, or Lydgate. In Homer he is 
represented merely as a deformed jester: 
"Thersites only would speak ill. A most disorder'd store 
Of words he foolishly pour'd out, of which his mind held more 
Than it could manage: any thing with which he could procure 
Laughter, he never could contain. He should have yet been sure 
To touch no kings: t'oppose their states becomes not jesters parts. 
But he the filthiest fellow was of all that had deserts 
In Troy's brave siege: he was squint-ey'd, and lame of either foot; 
So crook-back'd that he had no breast; sharp-headed, where did 

shoot 
(Here and there sperst) thin mossy hair. He most of all envied 
Ulysses and ^acides, whom still his spleen would chidej 
Nor could the sacred king himself avoid his saucy veinj 
Against whom, since he knew the Greeks did vehement hates 

sustain, ' 

(Being angry for Achilles' wrong,) he cried out, railing thus." 

— H. N. H. 
8 E 45 



Act 11. sc. L TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Achil. What 's the quarrel? 100 

A jaw. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor 
of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. 

Ther. I serve thee not. 

Ajacc. Well, go to, go to. 

Ther. I serve here voluntary. 

Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas 
not voluntary ; no man is beaten voluntary : 
Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as 
under an impress. 

Ther. E'en so; a great deal of your wit too hes HO 
in your sinews, or else there be liars. Hec- 
tor shall have a great catch, if he knock out 
either of your brains : a' were as good crack 
a fusty nut with no kernel. 

Achil. What, with me too, Thersites? 

Ther. There 's Ulysses and old Nestor, whose 
wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had 
nails on their toes, yoke you like draught- 
oxen, and make you plow up the wars. 

Achil. What? what? 120 

Ther. Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! 
to! 

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue. 

Ther. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as 
thou afterwards. 

Pair. No more words, Thersites ; peace ! 

Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' 
brooch bids me, shall I ? 

Achil. There 's for you, Patroclus. 

Ther. I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere 1 130 

128. "brooch"; Rowe, "brack"; Malone conj. "brock." — I. G. 
46. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act. Ii. Sc. ii. 

come any more to your tents: I will keep 
where there is wit stirring, and leave the 
faction of fools. lExit. 

Pair. A good riddance. 

Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all 
our host: 
That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, 
Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy 
To-morrow morning call some knight to arms 
That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare 
Maintain — I know not what: 'tis trash. Fare- 
well. 140 

Ajax. Farewell. Who shall answer him? 

Achil. I know not; 'tis put to lottery; otherwise 
He knew his man. 

Ajax. O, meaning you. I will go learn more 
of it. [Exeunt, 



Scene II 

Troy. A room in Priamfs palace. 

Enter Priam, Hector ^ Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. 

Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches spent. 
Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks : 

136. "the fifth hour"; the quarto has "the first hour of the sun." 
In Act III, sc. iii, Thersites speaks of "eleven o'clock" as the hour 
for the duel; which shows that fifth is right. The thing were of no 
consequence, but for what is well stated by Knight, thus: "The 
knights of chivalry did not encounter at the first hour of the sun; 
by the fifth, on a summer's morning, the lists would be set, and the 
ladies in their seats. The usages of chivalry are those of this play." 
— H. N. H. 

47 



Act 11. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

'Deliver Helen, and all damage else, 
As honor, loss of time, travail, expense. 
Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is 

consumed 
In hot digestion of this cormorant war, 
Shall be struck oiF.' Hector, what say you 
to't? 
Hect. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks 
than I 
As far as toucheth my particular, 
Yet, dread Priam, 10 

There is no lady of more softer bowels, 
More spongy to suck in the sense of fear, 
More ready to cry out 'Who knows what fol- 
lows ?' 
Than Hector is: the wound of peace is surety, 
Surety secure : but modest doubt is call'd 
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches 
To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go. 
Since the first sword was drawn about this 

question, 
Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand 

dismes, 
Hath been as dear as Helen ; I mean, of ours : 20 
If we have lost so many tenths of ours, 
To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us, 
Had it our name, the value of one ten. 
What merit 's in that reason which denies 
The yielding of her up ? 
Tro. Fie, fie, my brother! 

Weigh you the worth and honor of a king, 

14, "surety" ; false confidence. — C. H. H. 
48 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act. ii. Sc. ii. 

So great as our dread father, in a scale 
Of common ounces? will you with counters sum 
The past proportion of his infinite? 
And buckle in a waist most fathomless 30 

With spans and inches so diminutive 
As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame! 
Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at 

reasons. 
You are so empty of them. Should not our 

father 
Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons. 
Because your speech hath none that tells him 

so? 
Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother 

priest ; 
You fur your gloves with reason. Here are 

your reasons: 
You know an enemy intends you harm; 
You know a sword employ'd is perilous, 40 
And reason flies the object of all harm: 
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds 
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set 
The very wings of reason to his heels, 
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, 
Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of 

reason. 
Let 's shut our gates, and sleep : manhood and 

honor 
Should have hare hearts, would they but Fat 

their thoughts 
With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect 
Make livers pale and lustihood deject. 50 

XXII— 4 49 



Act II. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Hect. Brother she is not worth what she doth cost 
The holding. 

Tro, What 's aught, but as 'tis valued? 

Hect. But value dwells not in particular will; 
It holds his estimate and dignity 
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself 
As in the prizer:'tis mad idolatry 
To make the service greater than the god; 
And the will dotes, that is attributive 
To what infectiously itself affects. 
Without some image of the affected merit. 60 

Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election 
Is led on in the conduct of my will; 
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, 
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores 
Of will and judgment: how may I avoid, 
Although my will distaste what it elected, 
The wife I chose ? there can be no evasion 
To blench from this, and to stand firm by honor. 
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant 
When we have soil'd them, nor the remainder 
viands '^0 

We do not throw in unrespective sieve, 
Because we now are full. It was thought meet 
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks: 
Your breath of full consent bellied his sails ; 
The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce, 
And did him service: he touch'd the ports de- 
sired ; 
And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held cap- 
tive 

77. "an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive" i. e. "Priam's 
50 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act. II. Sc. ii. 

He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and 

freshness 
Wrinkles Apollo's and makes stale the morning. 
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt: 
Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl, 81 
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand 

ships. 
And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants. 
If you '11 avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went, 
As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go,' 
If you '11 confess he brought home noble prize, 
As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your 

hands. 
And cried 'Inestimable!' why do you now 
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate, 
And do a deed that Fortune never did, 90 

Beggar the estimation which you prized 
Richer than sea and land? O, theft most base, 
That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep! 
But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n. 
That in their country did them that disgrace, 
We fear to warrant in our native place! 

Cas. [TVithinl Cry, Trojans, cry! 

Pri. What noise? what shriek is this? 

Tro. 'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice. 

Cas. [Within] Cry, Trojans! 

Hect It is Cassandra. 100 

sister, Hesione, whom Hercules, being enraged at Priam's breach 
of faith, gave to Telamon, who by her had Ajax" (Malone). — I. G. 
82. "whose 'price hath launched" ; a reminiscence of the famous 
line in Marlowe's Faustus, "Is this the face that launched a thousand 
ships."— C. H. H. 

51 



Act n. Sc. ii. TEOILUS AND CEESSIDA 

Enter Cassandra^ raving, with her hair 
about her ears. 

Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes, 
And I will fill them with prophetic tears. 

Heat. Peace, sister, peace! 

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid age and wrinkled eld. 
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, 
Add to my clamors ! let us pay betimes 
A moiety of that mass of moan to come. 
Cry, Trojans, cry! practice your eyes with tears! 
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand; 
Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all. HO 
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe: 
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. 

[Exit. 

Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high 
strains 
Of divination in our sister work 
Some touches of remorse? or is your blood 
So madly hot that no discourse of reason, 
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, 
Can qualify the same ? 

Tro. Why, brother Hector, 

We may not think the justness of each act 
Such and no other than event doth form it ; 120 
Nor once deject the courage of our minds, 
Because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick rap- 
tures 

110. "Our firebrand brother, Paris" alluding to Hecuba's dream 
that she should be delivered of a burning torch. — I. G. 

116. "discourse of reason"; exercise of reason (in argument). — 
C. H. H. 

52 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act. li. Sc. ii. 

Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel 
Which hath our several honors all engaged 
To make it gracious. For my private part, 
I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons: 
And Jove forbid there should be done amongst 

iis 
Such things as might offend the weakest spleen 
To fight for and maintain ! 

Par. Else might the world convince of levity 130 
As well my undertakings as your counsels : 
But I attest the gods, your full consent 
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off 
All fears attending on so dire a project. 
For what, alas, can these my single arms? 
What propugnation is in one man's valor, 
To stand the push and enmity of those 
This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest, 
Were I alone to pass the difficulties. 
And had as ample power as I have will, 140 

Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done. 
Nor faint in the pursuit. 

Pri. Paris, you speak 

Like one besotted on your sweet delights: 
You have the honey still, but these the gall ; 
So to be valiant is no praise at all. 

Par. Sir, I propose not merely to myself 
The pleasures such a beauty brings with it ; 
But I would have the soil of her fair rape 
Wiped off in honorable keeping her. 
What treason were it to the ransack'd queen, 150 

150. "treason"; treachery.— C. H. H. 



5S 



Act II. Sc. iL TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me, 
Now to deUver her possession up 
On terms of base compulsion ! Can it be 
That so degenerate a strain as this 
Should once set footing in your generous bo- 
soms ? 
There 's not the meanest spirit on our party, 
Without a heart to dare, or sword to draw. 
When Helen is defended, nor none so noble. 
Whose life were ill bestow 'd, or death unf amed. 
Where Helen is the subject: then, I sslj, 160 
Well may we fight for her, whom, we know 

well. 
The world's large spaces cannot parallel. 
Hect. Paris and Troilus, you have both said well; 
And on the cause and question now in hand 
Have glozed, but superficial!}^ ; not much 
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought 
Unfit to hear moral philosophy. 
The reasons you allege do more conduce 
To the hot passion of distemper'd blood, 
Than to make up a free determination I'^O 

'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and re- 
venge 
Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice 
Of any true decision. Nature craves 

166. "Aristotle thought"; Rowe and Pope proposed "graver sages 
think," to save Shakespeare from the terrible anachronism. It has 
been pointed out that Aristotle speaks of political and not of moral 
philosophy; and, further, that Bacon makes the same mistake in his 
Advancement of Learning, Book ii. (published 1605). — I. G. 

173. "more deaf than adders"; the deafness of the adder was 
proverbial in popular natural history. — C. H. H. 

54 



TROILUS AND CKESSIDA Act. ii. Sc. iil 

All dues be render'd to their owners: now, 

What nearer debt in all humanity 

Than wife is to the husband? If this law 

Of nature be corrupted through affection, 

And that great minds, of partial indulgence 

To their benumbed wills, resist the same, 

There is a law in each well-order'd nation ISC 

To curb those raging appetites that are 

Most disobedient and refractory. 

If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king, 

As it is known she is, these moral laws 

Of nature and of nations speak aloud 

To have her back return'd : thus to persist 

In doing wrong extenuates not wTong, 

But makes it much more heavy. Hector's 

opinion 
Is this in way of truth: yet, ne'ertheless. 
My spritely brethren, I propend to you 190 

In resolution to keep Helen still ; 
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance 
Upon our joint and several dignities. 
Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design : 
Were it not glory that we more affected 
Than the performance of our heaving spleens, 
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood 
Spent more in her defense. But, worthy 

Hector, 
She is a theme of honor and renown ; 
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, 200 
Whose present courage may beat down our foes. 
And fame in time to come canonize us : 

203. "canonize us"; the expression must not be taken literally; it 
55 



Act II. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose 
So rich advantage of a promised glory 
As smiles upon the forehead of this action 
For the wide world's revenue. 
Hect. I am yours, 

You valiant offspring of great Priamus. 
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst 
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks, 
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits: 
I was advertised their great general slept, 211 
Whilst emulation in the army crept : 
This, I presume, will wake him. [Eooeunt. 



Scene III 

The Grecian camp. Before the tent of Achilles. 

Enter Thersites, solus. 

Ther. How now, Thersites! what, lost in the 
labyrinth of thy fury! Shall the elephant 
Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail 
at him: O, worthy satisfaction! would it 
were otherwise ; that I could beat him, whilst 
he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I '11 learn to con- 
jure and raise devils, but I '11 see some issue 
of my spiteful execrations. Then there 's 
Achilles, a rare enginer. If Troy be not 
taken till these two undermine it, the walls 10 

merely means, be inscribed among the heroes or demigods. "Ascribi 
numinibus" is rendered by old translators "to be canonized, or made 
a saint." — H. N. H. 

5Q 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ii. Sc. iii. 

will stand till they fall of themselves. O 
thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, for- 
get that thou art Jove, the king of gods, 
and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft 
of thy caduceus, if ye take not that little 
little less than little wit from them that they 
have! which short-armed ignorance itself 
knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in 
circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, 
without drawing their massy irons and cut- 20 
ting the web. After this, the vengeance on 
the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan 
bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse 
dependant on those that war for a placket. 
I have said my prayers ; and devil Envy say 
amen. What, ho! my Lord Achilles! 

Enter Patroclus. 

Pair. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, 
come in and rail. 

Ther. If I could ha' remembered a gilt counter- 
feit, thou wouldst not have slipped out of 30 
my contemplation: but it is no matter; thy- 
self upon thyself! The common curse of 
mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in 
great revenue! heaven bless thee from a 

14. "serpentine craft"; Mercury's staff or caduceus was in later 
mythology represented as intertwined with serpents. — C. H. H. 

29. "a gilt counterfeit"; to understand this joke it should be 
known that counterfeit and slip were synonymous: "And therefore 
he went out and got him certain slips, which are counterfeit pieces 
of money, being brasse, and covered over with silver, which the 
common people call slips."— Greene's Thieves falling out, true Men 
come by their Goods. — H. N. H. 

57 



Act 11. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND ORES SID A 

tutor, and discipline come not near thee! 

Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death ! 

then if she that lays thee out says thou art 

a fair corse, 1 11 be sworn and sworn upon 't 

she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. 

Where 's Achilles? 40 

Pair. What, art thou devout? wast thou in 

prayer ? 
Tker. Aye; the heavens hear me^ 
Pair. Amen. 

Enter Achilles, 

Achil. Who 's there? 

Pair. Thersites, my lord. 

Achil. Where, where? Art thou come? why, 
my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not 
served thyself in. to my table so many meals? 
Come, what 's Agamemnon ? 50 

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles: then tell me, 
Patroclus, what 's Achilles ? 

Pair. Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray 
thee, what's thyself? 

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, 
Patroclus, what art thou? 

Pair. Thou mayst tell that knowest. 

Achil. O, tell, tell. 

Ther. I '11 decline the whole question. Aga- 
memnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my 60 
lord; I am Patroclus' knower, and Patroclus 
is a fool. 

Pair. You rascal! 

Ther. Peace, fool! I have not done. 

58 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ii. Sc. m, 

Achil. He is a privileged man. Proceed, Ther- 
sites. 

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool ; Achilles is a fool ; 
Thersites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Pa- 
troclus is a fool. 

Achil. Derive this; come. 70 

I'her. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to com- 
mand Achilles ; Achilles is a fool to be com- 
manded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool 
to serve such a fool ; and Patroclus is a fool 
positive. 

Pair. Why am I a fool? 

Ther. Make that demand of the prover. It 
suffices me thou art. Look you, who comes 
here? 

Achil. Patroclus, I '11 speak with nobody. 80 
Come in with me, Thersites. [Eivit 

Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling and 
such knavery! all the argument is a cuck- 
old and a whore; a good quarrel to draw 
emulous factions and bleed to death upon. 
Now, the dry serpigo on the subject! and 
war and lechery confound all! \_Eajit. 

Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, 
and Ajax. 

A gam. Where is Achilles? 

Pair. Within his tent; but ill-disposed, my lord. 

75. "positive"; absolutely, under all conditions, not in respect of 
particular actions. — C. H. H. 

77. "of the prover," the reading of Q. ; Ff. read "to the Creator"; 
Rowe (ed. 2), "to thy creator"; Capell, "of thy creator." — I. G. 

59 



Act II. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Agam. Let it be known to him that we are here. 90 
He shent our messengers ; and we lay by 
Our appertainments, visiting of him: 
Let him be told so, lest perchance he think 
We dare not move the question of our place, 
Or know not what we are. 

Pair. I shall say so to him. \_Exit. 

Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent : 
He is not sick. 

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart; you 
may call it melancholy, if you will favor 
the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride: but 100 
why, why? let him show us the cause. A 
word, my lord. [Takes Agamemnon aside. 

Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? 

Ulyss. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from 
him. 

Nest. Who, Thersites? 

Ulyss. He. 

Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have 
lost his argument. 

Ulyss. No, you see, he is his argument that has HO 
his argument, Achilles. 

Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our 
wish than their faction: but it was a strong 
composure a fool could disunite. 

Ulyss. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly 
may easily untie. 

Re-enter Patroclus. 

91. "He shent our" Theobald's emendation; Q. reads "He sate 
our"; Ff., "He sent our."— I. G. 

60 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act il. Sc. m. 

Here comes Patroclus. 

Nest. No Achilles with him. 

JJlyss. The elephant hath joints, but none for 
courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not 120 
for flexure. 

Pair. Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry, 

If anything more than your sport and pleasure 
Did move your greatness and this noble state 
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other 
But for your health and your digestion sake, 
An after-dinner's breath. 

'Agam, Hear you, Patroclus: 

We are too well acquainted with these answers : 
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn, 
Cannot outfly our apprehensions. 130 

Much attribute he hath, and much the reason 
Why we ascribe it to him : yet all his virtues, 
Not virtuously on his own part beheld, 
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss. 
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish. 
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him. 
We come to speak with him; and you shall not 

sin, 
If you do say we think him over-proud 
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater 
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier 
than himself 140 

119. "The elephant hath joints, hut none for courtesy," It was 
currently believed that the elephant could not kneel. — C. H. H. 

13?. "Not virtuously on his own part beheld"; not regarded as 
becomes a virtuous man, i. e. modestly. — C. H. H. 

140. "Than in the note of judgment"; than true judges know him 
to be.— C. H. H. 

61 



Act II. Se. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, 
Disguise the holy strength of their command. 
And underwrite in an observing kind 
His humorous predominance; yea, watch 
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if 
The passage and whole carriage of this action 
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add. 
That if he overbold his price so much. 
We '11 none of him, but let him, like an engine 
Not portable, lie under this report: 150 

'Bring action hither, this cannot go to war: 
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give 
Before a sleeping giant:' tell him so. 

Pair. I shall; and bring his answer presently. 

[Exit. 

Agam. In second voice we '11 not be satisfied; 

We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter 
you. [Eijcit Ulysses. 

Ajcuv. What is he more than another? 

Agam. No more than what he thinks he is. 

Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think he 
thinks himself a better man than I am? 160 

Agam. No question. 

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought and say 
he is? 

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as 
valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more 
gentle and altogether more tractable. 

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? How 
doth pride grow? I know not what pride is. 

Agam. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and 

156. "Enter you"; so Ff.; Q. reads "entertaine" — I. G. 

62 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ii. Sc. iii. 

your virtues the fairer. He that is proud 170 
eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his 
own trumpet, his own chronicle; and what- 
ever praises itself but in the deed, devours 
the deed in the praise. 

A jaw. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the 
engendering of toads. 

Nest. [Aside} Yet he loves himself: is 't not 
strange ? 

Re-enter Ulysses. 

TJlyss. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. 

Agam. What 's his excuse? 

TJlyss. He doth rely on none. 

But carries on the stream of his dispose, 180 
Without observance or respect of any, 
In will peculiar and in self -admission. 

'Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request, 
Untent his person, and share the air with us? 

Ulyss. Things small as nothing, for request's sake 
only 
He makes important : possess'd he is with great- 
ness. 
And speaks not to himself but with a pride 
That quarrels at self -breath: imagined worth 
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse 
That 'twixt his mental and his active parts 190 
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages 
And batters down himself: what should I say? 

176. "engendering" ; spawn. — C. H. H. 

182. "in self-admission" ; at his own choice. — C. H. H. 

191. "Kingdom'd" ; like a kingdom, i. e. divided against himself 

63 



Act n. Sc. iii. TKOILUS AND CRESSIDA 

He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of 

it 
Cry 'No recovery.' 

A gam. Let Ajax go to him. 

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent: 
'Tis said he holds you well, and will be led 
At your request a little from himself. 

XJlyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so! 

We '11 consecrate the steps that Ajax makes 
When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud 
lord 200 

That bastes his arrogance with his own seam, 
And never suffers matter of the world 
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve 
And ruminate himself, shall he be worship'd 
Of that we hold an idol more than he ? 
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord 
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired, 
Nor, by my will, assub jugate his merit. 
As amply titled as Achilles is. 
By going to Achilles : 210 

That were to enlard his fat-already pride. 
And add more coals to Cancer when he burns 
With entertaining great Hyperion. 
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid. 
And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.' 

like a country in civil war. The image here compressed into an 
epithet is given in full in Jul. Cms. ii. 1. 68: — 

The state of man. 
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection. — C. H. H. 

207. "paW; the victor's emblem.— C. H. H. 
64 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act 11. Sc. iii. 

Nest. ]^Aside~\ O, this is well; he rubs the vein of 

him. 

Dio. \_Aside'] And how his silence drinks up this 

applause ! 

Ajaoo. If I go to him, with my armed fist 

I '11 pash him o'er the face. 

Agam. O, no, you shall not go. 220 

A jaw. An a' be proud with me, I '11 pheeze his 

pride: 

Let me go to him. 

Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs upon our 

quarrel. 

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow! 

Nest. lAside~\ How he describes himself! 

Ajaoo. Can he not be sociable? 

Ulyss. [Aside'] The raven chides blackness. 

Ajax. I '11 let his humors blood. 

Agam. [Aside] He will be the physician that 

should be the patient. 230 

Ajax. An all men were o' my mind, — 

Ulyss. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion. 

Ajax. A' should not bear it so, a' should eat 

swords first: shall pride carry it? 

Nest. [Aside] An 'twould, you 'Id carry half. 

Ulyss. [Aside] A' would have ten shares. 

Ajax. I will knead him, I '11 make him supple. 

Nest. [Aside] He's not yet through warm: 

force him with praises : pour in, pour in ; his 

ambition is dry. 240 

Ulyss. [To Agamemnon] My lord, you feed too 

much on this dislike. 

Nest. Our noble general, do not do so. 
XXII-5 65 



Act II. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. 

Ulyss. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him 
harm. 
Here is a man — but 'tis before his face; 
I will be silent. 

Nest. Wherefore should you so? 

He is not emulous, as Achilles is. 

Ulyss. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. 

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus 
with us! Would he were a Trojan! 250 

Nest. What a vice were it in Ajax now — 

Ulyss. If he were proud, — " 

Dio. Or covetous of praise, — 

Ulyss. Aye, or surly borne, — 

Dio. Or strange, or self -affected ! 

Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet 
composure ; 
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee 

suck: 
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature 
Thrice-famed beyond, beyond all erudition: 
But he that disciplined thine arms to fight, 260 
Let Mars divide eternity in twain. 
And give him half: and, for thy vigor, 
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield 
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, 
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines 
Thy spacious and dilated parts : here 's Nestor, 
Instructed by the antiquary times, 

QQ5. A "bourn" is a boundary, and sometimes a rivulet, dividing 
one place from another. A bourn, or burn, in the north, signifies a 
brook, or rivulet. Hence the names of many villages, &c., terminate 
in hum. — H. N. H. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ii. Sc. m. 

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise ; 
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days 269 
As green as Ajax', and your brain so temper'd, 
You should not have the eminence of him. 
But be as Ajax. 

Ajax. Shall I call you father? 

Nest. Aye, my good son. 

Dio. Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax. 

Ulyss. There is no tarrying here ; the hart Achilles 
Keeps thicket. Please it our great general 
To call together all his state of war : 
Fresh kings are come to Troy : to-morrow 
We must with all our main of power stand fast : 
And here 's a lord, come knights from east to 
west, 279 

And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best. 

Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep : 

Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks 
draw deep. \Eooeunt, 



m 



Act III. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



ACT THIRD 

Scene I 

Troy. A room in Priarris palace 
Enter Pandarus and a Servant. 

Pan. Friend, you, pray you, a word: do you not 
follow the young Lord Paris? 

Serv. Aye, sir, when he goes before me. 

Pan. You depend upon him, I mean? 

Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the Lord. 

Pan. You depend upon a noble gentleman; I 
must needs praise him. 

Serv. The Lord be praised! 

Pan. You know me, do you not? 

Serv. Faith, sir, superficially. 10 

Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the Lord 
Pandarus. 

Serv. I hope I shall know your honor better. 

Pan. I do desire it. 

Serv. You are in the state of grace. 

Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honor and lord- 
ship are my titles. [Music within.'] What 
music is this? 

Serv. I do but partly know, sir: it is music in 
parts. 20 

Pan. Know you the musicians? 
68 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act III. Sc. i. 

Serv, Wholly, sir. 

Pan, Who play they to? 

Serv, To the hearers, sir. 

Pan, At whose pleasure, friend? 

Serv, At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. 

Pan, Command, I mean, friend. 

Serv, Who shall I command, sir? 

Pan, Friend, we understand not one another: 
I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. 30 
At whose request do these men play? 

Serv. That 's to 't, indeed, sir : marry, sir, at the 
request of Paris my lord, who is there in 
person; with him, the mortal Venus, the 
heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul. 

Pan, Who, my cousin Cressida? 

Serv, No, sir, Helen: could not you find out 
that by her attributes? 

Pan. It should seem, fellow;, that thou hast 
not seen the Lady Cressida. I come to 40 
speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus: 
I will make a complimental assault upon 
him, for my business seethes. 

Serv. Sodden business ! there 's a stewed phrase 
indeed ! 

Enter Paris and Helen, attended. 

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair 
company! fair desires, in all fair measure, 
fairly guide them! especially to you, fair 
queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow! 

44. "sodden" alluding to the cure of the French disease. Hence 
the equivoque in "stewed." — C. H. H. 

69 



Act III. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. 50 

Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet 
queen. Fair prince, here is good broken 
music. 

Par. You have broke it, cousin: and, by my 
life, you shall make it whole again ; you shall 
piece it out with a piece of your perform- 
ance. Nell, he is full of harmony. 

Pan. Truly, lady, no. 

Helen. O, sir, — 

Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. 60 

Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in 
fits. 

Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen. 
My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? 

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out : we '11 
hear you sing, certainly. 

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with 
me. But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear 
lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother 
Troilus— 70 

Heleri. My Lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord, — 

Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to: — commends 
himself most affectionately to you — 

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody : 
if you do, our melancholy upon your head! 

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen ; that 's a sweet 
queen, i' faith. 

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour 
offense. 

Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that 80 

shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not 

70 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act in. Sc. i. 

for such words; no, no. And, my lord, he 

desires you, that if the king call for him at 

supper, you will make his excuse. 
Helen. My Lord Pandarus, — 
Pan. What says my sweet queen, my very very 

sweet queen? 
Par. What exploit 's in hand ? where sups he 

to-night? 
Helen. Nay, but, my lord, — 90 

Pan. What says my sweet queen? My cousin 

will fall out with you. You must not know 

where he sups. 
Par. I '11 lay my life, with my disposer Cres- 

sida. 
Pan. No, no, no such matter; you are wide: 

come, your disposer is sick. 
Par. Well, I '11 make excuse. 
Pan. Aye, good my lord. Why should you 

say Cressida ? no, your poor disposer 's sick. 100 
Par. I spy. 
Pan. You spy! what do you spy? Come, give 

me an instrument. Now, sweet queen. 
Helen. Why, this is kindly done. 
Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing 

you have, sweet queen. 
Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not 

my lord Paris. 
Pan. He ! no, she '11 none of him ; they two are 

twain. 110 

Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make 

them three. 



71 



Act III. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Pan. Come, come, I 'U hear no more of this ; 

I 'd sing you a song now. 
Helen. Aye, aye, prithee now. By my troth, 

sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead. 
Pan. Aye, you may, you may. 
Helen. Let thy song be love : this love will undo 

us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! 
Pan. Love! aye, that it shall, i' faith. 120 

Par. Aye, good now, lovfe, love, nothing but 

love. 
Pan. In good troth, it begins so. [Sings. 

Love, love, nothing but love, still more! 
For, O, love's bow 
Shoots buck and doe: 
The shaft confounds. 
Not that it wounds. 
But tickles still the sore. 
These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die: 130 

Yet that which seems the wound to kill, 
Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he! 

So dying love lives still : 
Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha! 
Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha! 
Heigh-ho ! 
Helen. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the 

nose. 
Par. He eats nothing but doves, love, and that 
breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot 140 
thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, 
and hot deeds is love. 

124. The reading of Ff.; omitted in Q.— I. G. 

131. "the wound to kill"; a mortal wound. — C. H. H. 

72 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ill. Sc. i. 

Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, 
hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they 
are vipers: is love a generation of vipers? 
Sweet lord, who 's afield to-day ? 

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, 
and all the gallantry of Troy : I would fain 
have armed to-day, but my Nell would not 
have it so. How chance my brother Troilus 150 
went not? 

Helen. He hangs the lip at something: you 
know all. Lord Pandarus. 

Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to 
hear how they sped to-day. You '11 re- 
member your brother's excuse? 

Par. To a hair. 

Pan. Farewell, sweet queen. 

Helen. Commend me to your niece. 

Pan. I will, sweet queen. [Exit. 160 

[A retreat sounded. 

Par. They 're come from field : let us to Priam's 
hall. 
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must 

woo you 
To help unarm our Hector; his stubborn 

buckles, 
With these your white enchanting fingers 

touch'd. 
Shall more obey than to the edge of steel 
Or force of Greekish sinews ; you shall do more 
Than all the island kings, — disarm great Hec- 
tor. 



73 



Act III. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, 
Paris ; 
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty 
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have, 170 
Yea, over shines ourself . 

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeunt. 



Scene II 

An orchard to Pandarus' house. 
Enter Pandarus and Troilus' Boy, meeting. 

Pan. How now ! where 's thy master ? at my 

cousin Cressida's? 
Boy. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him 

thither. 
Pan. O, here he comes. 

Enter Troilus. 

How now, how now! 

Tro. Sirrah, walk off. [Exit Boy. 

Pan. Have you seen my cousin? 

Tro. No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door, 

Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks 10 
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon, 
And give me swift transportance to those fields 
Where I may wallow in the lily -beds 
Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Panda- 
rus, 
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings, 
And fly with me to Cressid! 
7-t 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act 111. Sc. ii. 

Pan. Walk here i' the orchard, I '11 bring her 
straight. \_Ea;it, 

Tro. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. 
The imaginary relish is so sweet 20 

That it enchants my sense: what will it be, 
When that the watery palates taste indeed 
Love's thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me, 
Swounding destruction, or some joy too fine. 
Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweetness. 
For the capacity of my ruder powers : 
I fear it much, and I do fear besides 
That I shall lose distinction in my joys. 
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps 
The enemy flying. 30 

Re-enter Pandarus. 

Pan. She 's making her ready, she '11 come 
straight : you must be witty now. She does 
so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if 
she were frayed with a sprite : I '11 fetch her. 
It is the prettiest villain: she fetches her 
breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow. \_Ea:it. 

Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom : 
]My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse ; 
And all my powers do their bestowing lose, 
Like vassalage at unawares encountering 40 
The eye of majesty. 

Re-e7iter Pandarus with Cressida. 

Pan. Come, come, what need you blush? shame 's 
a baby. Here she is now: swear the oaths 
now to her that you have sworn to me. 
75 



Act III. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

What, are you gone again? you must be 
watched ere you be made tame, must you? 
Come your ways, come your ways; an you 
draw backward, we '11 put you i' the fills. 
Why do you not speak to her? Come, draw 
this curtain, and let 's see your picture. Alas 50 
the day, how loath you are to offend day- 
light ! an 'twere dark, you 'Id close sooner. 
So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress. How 
now! a kiss in fee-farm! build there, car- 
penter; the air is sweet. Nay, you shall 
fight your hearts out ere I part you. The 
falcon as the tercel^ for all the ducks i' the 
river: go to, go to. 

Tro. You have bereft me of all words, lady. 

Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but 60 
she '11 bereave you o' the deeds too, if she call 
your activity in question. What, bilhng 
again? Here's 'In witness whereof the 
parties interchangeably' — Come in, come in: 
I '11 go get a fire. [Exit. 

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? 

63. "billing"; a play on the legal sense of "bill" as in "deeds" 
above.— C. H. H. 

63. "/ witness whereof"; Shakespeare had here an idea in his 
thqughts that he has elsewhere often expressed. Thus in Measure 
for Measure: 

"But my kisses bring again, 
Seals of love, but seal'd in vain." 

And in Venus and Adonis: 

"Pure lips sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, 
What bargains may I make still to be sealing?" 

— H. N. H. 

76 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Adt ill. Sc. ii. 

Tro, O Cressida, how often have I wished me 
thus I 

Cres. Wished, my lord? — The gods grant — O 
my lord! 'J'O 

Tro. What should they grant? what makes this 
pretty abruption? What too curious dreg 
espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our 
love ? 

Cres. More dregs than water, if my fears have 
eyes. 

Tro. Fears make devils of cherubins; they 
never see truly. 

Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds 
safer footing than blind reason stiimbling 80 
without fear : to fear the worst oft cures the 
worse. 

Tro. O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all 
Cupid's pageant there is presented no 
monster. 

Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither? 

Tro. Nothing, but our undertakings; when we 
vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, 
tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mis- 
tress to devise imposition enough than for 
us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This 
is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the 
will is infinite and the execution confined, 
that the desire is boundless and the act a 
slave to limit. 

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more perform- 
ance than they are able, and yet reserve an 

75. "fears"; so F. 3; Q., Ff. 1, 2, "teares"; F. 4, "tears."— I. G. 

9E 77 



90 



Act III. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

ability that they never perform, vowing 
more than the perfection of ten, and dis- 
charging less than the tenth part of one. 10^ 
They that have the voice of lions and the 
act of hares, are they not monsters ? 

Tro. Are there such? such are not we: praise 
us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove; 
our head shall go bare till merit crown it: 
no perfection in reversion shall have a praise 
in present: we will not name desert before 
his birth, and, being born, his addition shall 
be humble. Few words to fair faith: 
Troilus shall be such to Cressid as what envy HO 
can say worst shall be a mock for his truth, 
and what truth can speak truest, not truer 
than Troilus. 

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? 

Re-enter Pandarus. 

Pan. What, blushing still? have you not done 
talking yet? 

Cres. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedi- 
cate to you. 

Pan. I thank you for that : if my lord get a boy 
of you, you '11 give him me. Be true to my 120 
lord : if he flinch, chide me for it. 

Tro. You know now your hostages; your 
uncle's word and my firm faith. 

Pan. Nay, I '11 give my word for her too: our 
kindred, though they be long ere they are 
wooed, they are constant being won: they 



78 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ill. Sc. ii. 

are burs, I can tell you ; they '11 stick where 
they are thrown. 

Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me 
heart. 
Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day 
For many weary months. 131 

Tro. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win ? 

Cres. Hard to seem won : but I wajs won, my lord. 
With the first glance that ever — pardon me ; 
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. 
I love you now ; but not, till now, so much 
But I might master it: in faith, I lie; 
My thoughts were like unbridled children, 

grown 
Too headstrong for their mother. See, we 

fools ! 
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us, 140 
When we are so unsecret to ourselves? 
But, though I loved you well, I woo'd you not ; 
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man. 
Or that we women had men's privilege 
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my 

tongue ; 
For in this rapture I shall surely speak 
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, 
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws 
My very soul of counsel! Stop my mouth. . 

Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. 150 

Pan. Pretty, i' faith. 

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me; 
'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss: 
I am ashamed; heavens! what have I done? 
79 



Act III. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

For this time will I take my leave, my lord. 

Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid? 

Pan. Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow 
morning — 

Cres. Pray you, content you. 

Tro. What oiFends you, lady? 160 

Cres. Sir, mine own company. 

Tro. You cannot shun yourself. 

Cres. Let me go and try: 

I have a kind of self resides with you, 
But an unkind self that itself will leave 
To be another's fool. I would be gone: 
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak. 

Tro. Well know they what they speak that speak 
so wisely. 

Cres. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than 
love, 
And fell so roundly to a large confession 170 
To angle for your thoughts: but you are wise; 
Or else you love not, for to be wise and love 
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods 
above. 

Tro. O that I thought it could be in a woman — 
As, if it can, I will presume in you — 
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love ; 
To keep her constancy in plight and youth, 
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind 
That doth renew swifter than blood decays! 
Or that persuasion could but thus convince me, 
That my integrity and truth to you 181 

165. •'itself"; i. e. Cressida.— C. H, H. 

169. "show"; Ff. 1, 2, 3, "shew = showed."— I. G. 

80 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Might be affronted with the match and weight 
Of such a winnowed purity in love; 
How were I then uphfted! but, alas! 
I am as true as truth's simplicity, 
And simpler than the infancy of truth. 

Cres. In that I '11 war with you. 

T?'0. O virtuous fight, 

When right with right wars who shall be most 

right! 
True swains in love shall in the world to come 
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their 
rhymes, 190 

Full of protest, of oath and big compare, 
Want similes, truth tired with iteration, 
'As true as steel, as plantage to the moon. 
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate. 
As iron to adamant, as earth to the center,' 
Yet, after all comparisons of truth. 
As truth's authentic author to be cited, 
'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse 
And sanctify the numbers. 

Cres. Prophet may you be ! 

If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, 200 
When time is old and hath forgot itself, 
When water drops have worn the stones of 

Troy, 
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, 
And mighty states characterless are grated 
To dusty nothing, yet let memory. 
From false to false, among false maids in love, 

183. "such a"; i. e. a similar. — C. H. H. 
XXII— 6 81 



Act in. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Upbraid my falsehood ! when they 've said 'as 

false 
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth. 
As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf, 
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son,' 210 
'Yea,' let them say, to stick the heart of false- 
hood, 
'As false as Cressid.' 

Pan. Go to, a bargain made : seal it, seal it ; I '11 
be the witness. Here I hold your hand ; here 
my cousin's. If ever j^ou prove false one 
to another, since I have taken such pains to 
bring you together, let all pitiful goers-be- 
tween be called to the world's end after my 
name ; call them all Pandars ; let all constant 
men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, 220 
and all brokers-between Pandars! Say 
'amen.' 

Tro, Amen. 

Cres. Amen. 

Pan. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a 
chamber with a bed; which bed, because it 
shall not speak of your pretty encounters, 
press it to death : away ! 

[Exeunt Tro. and Cres. 
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here 
Bed, chamber, Pandar to provide this gear! 230 

[Exit. 

226. "because it shall nol"j lest it should. — C. H. H. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ill. Sc. 



Scene III 

The Grecian camp. 

Flourish. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, 
Nestor, Ajaoc, Menelaus, and Calchas. 

Col. Now, princes, for the service I have done you. 
The advantage of the time prompts me aloud 
To call for recompense. Appear it to your 

mind 
That, through the sight I bear in things to love, 
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession, 
Incurr'd a traitor's name ; exposed myself. 
From certain and possess'd conveniences. 
To doubtful fortunes ; sequestering from me all 
That time, acquaintance, custom and condition 
Made tame and most familiar to my nature, 10 
And here, to do you service, am become 
As new into the world, strange, unacquainted: 

4. "through the sight I bear in things to love"; (?) "through my 
peculiar knowledge as to where it is well to place affection"; John- 
son proposed "Jove" for "love," reading, "through the sight I bear 
in things, to Jove I have abandoned," &c., but Jove favored the 
Trojans. No very satisfactory explanation has been advanced. — 
I. G. 

12. "Into" for unto; a common expression in old writers. Thus in 
Paston's Letters: "And they that have justed with him into this 
day have been as richly beseen." — Here again we trace the Poet's 
reading in Chaucer's Troilus and Creseide, Book i.: 

"So when this Calcas knew by calculing, 
And eke by the answere of this god Apollo, 
That the Greekes should such a people bring, 
Thorow the which that Troy must be fordo. 
He cast anone out of the toune to go; 
For well he, wist by sort, that Troie shoulde 
Destroyed be, ye would whoso or n'olde, 
83 



i^ct III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

I do beseech you, as in way of taste. 

To give me now a little benefit, 

Out of those many register'd in promise, 

Which, you say, live to come in my behalf. 

Again. What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make 
demand. 

Cal. You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd An tenor. 
Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear. 
Oft have you — often have you thanks there- 
fore— 20 
Desired my Cressid in right great exchange. 
Whom Troy hath still denied : but this Antenor, 
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs. 
That their negotiations all must slack. 
Wanting his manage; and they will almost 
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, 
In change of him : let him be sent, great princes, 
And he shall buy my daughter ; and her presence 
Shall quite strike off all service I have done, 
In most accepted pain. 

"Wherefore he to departen softely 
Tooke purpose full, this foreknowing wise. 
And to the Greekes host full prively 
He stale anone; and they in courteous wise 
Did unto him both worship and servise 
In trust that he hath cunning hem to rede 
In every perill, which that was to drede. 

"Great rumour rose, whan it was first espied. 
In all the toune, and openly was spoken. 
That Calcas traitour fled was and alied 
To hem of Greece; and cast was to be wroken 
On him that falsely hath his faith broken, 
And sayed, he and all his kinne atones 
Were worthy to be brent, both fell and bones," — H. N. H. 
21. "in right great exchange"; i. e. offering a Trojan prisoner of 
great distinction in exchange for her. — C. H, H. 
84 



TROiLUS AND CRESSIDA Act in. Sc. m. 

Agam. Let Diomedes bear him, 30 

And bring us Cressid hither : Calchas shall have 
What he requests of us. Good Diomed, 
Furnish you fairly for this interchange: 
Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow 
Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready. 

Dio. This shall I undertake ; and 'tis a burthen 
Which I am proud to bear. 

[Exeunt Diomedes and Calchas. 

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their tent. 

JJlyss, Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent : 
Please it our general pass strangely by him. 
As if he were forgot; and, princes all, 40 

Lay negligent and loose regard lipon him: 
I will come last. 'Tis like he '11 question me 
Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him: 
If so, I have derision medicinable, 
To use between your strangeness and his pride, 
Which his own will shall have desire to drink. 
It may do good: pride hath no other glass 
To show itself but pride, for supple knees 
Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees. 

Agam. We '11 execute your purpose and put on 50 
A form of strangeness as we pass along ; 
So do each lord, and either greet him not 
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more 
Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way. 

Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me? 

30. "In most accepted pa{n/'= trouble willingly undergone. Han- 
mer suggested "pay" for "pain." — I. G. 



85 



Act 111. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

You know my mind; I '11 fight no more 'gainst 
Troy. 
Agam, What says Achilles? would he aught with 

us? 
Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? 
Achil. No. 

Nest. Nothing, my lord. 60 

Agam. The better. 

[Exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor, 
Achil. Good day, good day. 

Me7i. How do you? how do you? [Exit. 

Achil. What, does the cuckold scorn me? 
Ajax. How now, Patroclus! 
Achil. Good morrow, Ajax. 
Ajax. Ha? 
Achil. Good morrow. 

Ajax. Aye, and good next day too. [Exit. 

Achil. What mean these fellows? Know they not 
Achilles? 70 

Pair. They pass by strangely: they were used to 
bend, 
To send their smiles before them to Achilles, 
To come as humbly as they used to creep 
To holy altars. 
Achil. What, am I poor of late? 

'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with 

fortune. 
Must fall out with men too : what the declined is, 
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others 
As feel in his own fall : for men, like butterflies, 
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; 
And not a man, for being simply man, 80 
86 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act in. Sc. iii. 

Hath any honor, but honor for those honors 
That are without him, as place, riches, and 

favor. 
Prizes of accident as oft as merit: 
Which when they fall, as being slippery 

standers, 
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too, 
Do one pluck down another and together 
Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me : 
Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy 
At ample point all that I did possess, 
Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find 
out 90 

Something not worth in me such rich behold- 
ing 
As they have often given. Here is Ulysses : 
I '11 interrupt his reading. 
How now, Ulysses! 

JJlyss. Now, great Thetis' son! 

Achil. What are you reading? 

JJlyss, A strange fellow here 

Writes me: 'That man, how dearly ever parted, 
How much in having, or without or in, 
Cannot make boast to have that which" he hath. 
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; 
As when his virtues shining upon others 100 
Heat them, and they retort that heat again 
To the first giver.' 

Achil. This is not strange, Ulysses. 

The beauty that is borne here in the face 
The bearer knows not, but commends itself 

89. "At ample point"; in full measure, completely. — C. H. H. 

87 



Act III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

To others' eyes : nor doth the eye itself, 
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, 
Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed 
Salutes each other with each other's form: 
For speculation turns not to itself, 
Till it hath travel'd and is mirror'd there HO 
Where it may see itself. This is not strange at 
all. 
Ulyss. I do not strain at the position — 
It is familiar — but at the author's drift; 
Who in his circumstance expressly proves 
That no man is the lord of any thing. 
Though in and of him there be much consisting, 
Till he communicate his parts to others; 
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught, 
Till he behold them formed in the applause 
Where they 're extended ; who, like an arch, re- 
verberates 120 
The voice again ; or, like a gate of steel 
Fronting the sun, receives and renders back 
His figure and his heat. I was mucTi rapt in 

this; 
And apprehended here immediately 
The unknown Ajax. 

Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse; 
That has he knows not what. Nature, what 

things there are. 
Most abject in regard and dear in use! 
What things again most dear in the esteem 

110. "mirror'd," the reading of Singer MS. and Collier MS.; Q., 
Ff., "married"; Keightley, "arrived," &c. — I. G. 
120. "icho"; i. k the applause.— C. H. H. 
128. "regard"; estimation.— C. H. H. 
88 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act III. Sc. lii. 

And poor in worth ! Now shall we see to-mor- 
row — 130 
An act that very chance doth throw upon him — 
Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do, 
While some men leave to do! 
How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall. 
Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes ! 
How one man eats into another's pride, 
While pride is fasting in his wantonness! 
To see these Grecian lords ! Why, even already 
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder. 
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast 140 
And great Troy shrieking. 
AcJiil. I do believe it; for they pass'd by me 
As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me 
Good word nor look: what, are my deeds for- 
got? 
Ulyss. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back 
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, 
A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : 
Those scraps are good deeds past, which are 

devour'd 
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
As done: perseverance, dear my lord, 150 

Keeps honor bright : to have done, is to hang 

137. "fasting"; so in the quarto; the folio has feasting. Johnson 
thought either word would do well enough: but fasting is evidently 
better for the designed antithesis between this and the preceding line. 
— H. N. H. 

141. "shrieking" ; the folio reads shrinking. The following passage 
in the subsequent scene seems to favor the reading of the quarto: 

"Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out! 
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth ! — 
And all cry — Hector, Hector's dead." — H. N. H. 
89 



[Act III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail 

In monumental mockery. Take the instant 

way; 
For honor travels in a strait so narrow, 
Where one but goes abreast : keep then the path ; 
For emulation hath a thousand sons 
That one by one pursue: if you give way, 
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright. 
Like to an enter' d tide they all rush by 
And leave you hindmost : 160 

Or, like a gallant horse f alFn in first rank. 
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 
O'er-run and trampled on : then what they do in 

present, 
Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop 

yours ; 
For time is like a fashionable host 
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the 

hand. 
And with his arms outstretch' d, as he would fly, 
Grasps in th€ comer: welcome ever smiles. 
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not vir- 
tue seek 
Remuneration for the thing it was; I'^O 

For beauty, wit, 

High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service. 
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all 
To envious and calumniating time. 
. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin ; 

175. "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin" i. e. 
one touch of human nature, one natural trait, shows the kinship 
of ail mankind, viz, that they praise new-born gawds, and are 
always hankering after novelty. — I. G. 

90 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act III. Sc. iii. 

That all with one consent praise new-born 

gawds, 
Though they are made and moulded of things 

past, 
And give to dust that is a little gilt 
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. 
The present eye praises the present object: 180 
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man. 
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax; 
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye 
Than what not stirs. The cry went once on 

thee. 
And still it might, and yet it may again, 
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive 
And case thy reputation in thy tent, 
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late. 
Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods them- 
selves. 
And drave great Mars to faction. 

AcTiil. Of this my privacy 190 

I have strong reasons. 

Ulyss. But 'gainst your privacy 

The reasons are more potent and heroical: 
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love 
With one of Priam's daughters. 

Achil. Ha! known? 

Ulyss. Is that a wonder? 

The providence that 's in a watchful state 
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold, 
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps, 

194. "one of Priam's daughters" ; i. e. "Polyxena, in the act of 
marrying whom she was afterwards killed by Paris." — I. G. 

91 



Act III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Keeps place with thought, and almost like the 

gods 
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. 200 
There is a mystery, with whom relation 
Durst never meddle, in the soul of state; 
Which hath an operation more divine 
Than breath or pen can give expressure to : 
All the commerce that you have had with Troy 
As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord; 
And better would it fit Achilles much 
To throw down Hector than Polyxena: 
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, 
When fame shall in our islands sound her 

trump ; 210 

And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing 
'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win. 
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.' 
Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak; 
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should 

break. [Exit. 

Pair. To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you: 
A woman impudent and mannish grown 
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man 
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this ; 
They think my little stomach to the war 220 
And your great love to me restrains you thus: 

200. "dumb cradles"; that is, in their infancy, and before they 
can give themselves utterance; as vi^e know men often act out their 
thoughts before they express them, and even before they are fully 
conscious of having them; some pre-existing impulse being in fact 
the seed of the thought. Mr. Collier found crudities substituted for 
cradles, among his late discoveries ; and he crows over it somewhat un- 
wisely, as it seems to us. — H. N. H. 

9^ 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act ill. Sc. iii. 

Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton 

Cupid 
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold. 
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane. 
Be shook to air. 

[Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? 

Pair. Aye, and perhaps receive much honor by him. 

AcMl. I see my reputation is at stake; 
My fame is shrewdly gored. 

Pair. O, then, beware; 

Those wounds heal ill that men do give them- 
selves : 
Omission to do what is necessary 230 

Seals a commission to a blank of danger ; 
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 

Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus: 
I '11 send the fool to Ajax, and desire him 
To invite the Trojan lords after the combat 
To see us here unarm'd : I have a woman's long- 
ing, 
An appetite that I am sick withal. 
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace; 
To talk with him, and to behold his visage, 240 
Even to my full of view. — A labor saved! 

Enter Thersites. 

241. "to my full view"; so in Caxton's History: "The truce dur- 
ing, Hector went on a day unto the tents of the Greekes, and 
Achilles beheld him gladly, forasmuch as he had never seen him 
unarmed. And at the request of Achilles, Hector went into his tent; 
and as they spake together of many things, Achilles said to Hector, 
I have great pleasure to see thee unarmed, forasmuch as I have 
never seen thee before." — H. N. H, 



Act III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ther. A wonder! 

AcUl What? 

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking 
for himself. 

Achil. How so? 

Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with 
Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an 
heroical cudgeling that he raves in saying 
nothing. 250 

Achil. How can that be? 

Ther. Why, a' stalks up and down like a pea- 
cock,— a stride and a stand: ruminates like 
an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her 
brain to set down her reckoning: bites his 
lip with a politic regard, as who should say 
'There were wit in this head, an 'twould out:' 
and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him 
as fire in a flint, which will not show without 
knocking. The man 's undone for ever ; for 260 
if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, 
he '11 break 't himself in vain-glory. He 
knows not me: I said 'Good morrow, Ajax;' 
and he replies 'Thanks, Agamemnon.' 
What think you of this man, that takes me 
for the general? He 's grown a very land- 
fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of 
opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, 
like a leather jerkin. 

Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, 270 
Thersites. 

Ther. Who, I ? why, he '11 answer nobody ; he 
professes not answering: speaking is for 
94) 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act in. Sc. iii. 

beggars; he wears his tongue in 's aj*ms. I 
will put on his presence : let Patroclus make 
demands to me, you shall see the pageant 
of Ajax. 

Achil. To him, Patroclus: tell him I humbly 
desire the valiant Ajax to invite the most 
valorous Hector to come unarmed to my 280 
tent, and to procure safe-conduct for his 
person of the magnanimous and most illus- 
trious six-or-seven-times-honored captain- 
general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, 
et cetera. Do this. 

Pair. Jove bless great Ajax! 

Ther. Hum! 

Pair. I come from the worthy Achilles, — 

Ther. Ha! 

Pair. Who most humbly desires you to invite 290 
Hector to his tent, — 

Ther. Hum! 

Pair. And to procure safe-conduct from Aga- 
memnon. 

Ther. Agamemnon? 

Patr. Aye, my lord. 

Ther. Ha! 

Patr. What say you to 't? 

Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart. 

Patr. Your answer, sir. 300 

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of 
the clock it will go one way or other: how- 
soever, he shall pay for me ere he has me. 

Patr. Your answer, sir. 

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. 
95 



Act III. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? 
Ther. No, but he 's out o' tune thus. What 

music will be in him when Hector has 

knocked out his brains, I know not; but, I 

am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get 310 

his sinews to make catlings on. 
Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him 

straight. 
Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for 

that 's the more capable creature. 
Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd. 

And I myself see not the bottom of it. 

[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. 
Ther. Would the fountain of your mind were 

clear again, that I might water an ass at it! 

I had rather be a tick in a sheep than such 320 

a valiant ignorance. [Exit. 



96 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act. iv. Sc. i. 



ACT FOURTH 

Scene I 

Troy. A street. 

Enter^ at one side, Mneas, and Servant with a 
torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, 
Diomedes, and others, with torches. 

Par. See, ho! who is that there? 

Dei. It is the Lord ^neas. 

^ne. Is the prince there in person? 
Had I so good occasion to he long 
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly- 
business 
Should rob my bed-mate of my company. 

Dio. That 's my mind too. Good morrow. Lord 
^neas. 

Par. A valiant Greek, jEneas, — take his hand, — 
Witness the process of your speech, wherein 
You told how Diomed a whole week by days 
Did haunt you in the field. 

^JEne. Health to you, valiant sir, 10 

During all question of the gentle truce; 
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance 
As heart can think or courage execute. 
Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. 

Our bloods are now in calm ; and, so long, health ; 

XXII— 7 97 



Act IV. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

But when contention and occasion meet, 
By Jove, I '11 play the hunter for thy life 
With all my force, pursuit and policy. 

^ne. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly 
With his face backward. In humane gentle- 
ness, 20 
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life. 
Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear, 
No man alive can love in such a sort 
The thing he means to kill more excellently. 

Dio. We sympathize. Jove, let ^neas live, 
If to my sword his fate be not the glory, 
A thousand complete courses of the sun ! 
But, in mine emulous honor, let him die. 
With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow. 

JEne. We know each other well. 30 

Dio. We do ; and long to know each other worse. 

Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, 
The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of. 
What business, lord, so early? 

\^ne. I was sent for to the king ; but why, I know 
not. 

Par. His purpose meets you : 'twas to bring this 
Greek 
To Calchas' house; and there to render him, 
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid: 
Let 's have your company, or, if you please. 
Haste there before us. I constantly do think, 40 
Or rather, call my thought a certain knowledge, 

36, "his purpose meets you"; that is, I bring you his meaning and 
his orders. — H. N. H. 
40. "constantly do think"; am firmly persuaded. — C. H. H. 

98 



TROILUS AND GRESSIDA Act. iv. Sc. i. 

My brother Troilus lodges there to-night: 
Rouse him and give him note of our approachj 
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear 
We shall be much unwelcome. 

'j^ne. That I assure you: 

Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece 
Than Cressid borne from Troy. 

Par. There is no help; 

The bitter disposition of the time 
Will have it so. On, lord, we '11 follow you. 

^ne. Good morrow, all. 50 

[E{vit with Servant. 

Par. And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true. 
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship. 
Who, in your thoughts, deserves fair Helen 

best, 
Myself or Menelaus? 

Dio. Both alike: 

He merits well to have her that doth seek her. 
Not making any scruple of her soilure, 
With such a hell of pain and world of charge 
And you as well to keep her, that defend her. 
Not palating the taste of her dishonor. 
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends : 60 
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up 
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece ; 
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins 
Are pleased to breed out your inheritors : 
Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor 

more. 
But he as he, the heavier for a whore. 

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman. 
99 



Act IV. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Dio. She 's bitter to her country : hear me, Paris : 
For every false drop in her bawdy veins 
A Grecian's hf e hath sunk ; for every scruple 70 
Of her contaminated carrion weight, 
A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, 
She hath not given so many good words breath 
As for her Greeks and Trojans sufFer'd death. 

Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, 
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy : 
But we in silence hold this virtue well, 
We '11 not commend what we intend to sell. 
Here lies our way. [Eoceunt. 



Scene II 

Court of Pandarus' house. 

Enter Troilus and Cressida. 

Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold. 
Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I '11 call mine uncle 
down; 

He shall unbolt the gates. 
Tro. Trouble him not; 

To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes. 

And give as soft attachment to thy senses 

As infants' empty of all thought! 
Cres. Good morrow, then ; 

Tro. I prithee now, to bed. 

Cres. Are you a-weary of me? 

Tro. O Cressida ! but that the busy day, 

5. "attachment"; arrest, seizure. — C. H. H. 
100 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act iv. Sc. ii. 

Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows, 

And dreaming night will hide our joys no 

longer, 10 

I would not from thee. 

Cres. Night hath been too brief. 

Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous Wights 

she stays 

As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love 

With wings more momentary-swift than 

thought. 
You will catch cold, and curse me. 
Cres, Prithee, tarry: 

You men will never tarry. 

foolish Cressid! I might have still held off. 
And then you would have tarried. Hark! 

there 's one up. 
Fan. [WitMn] What, 's all the doors open here? 
Tro. It is your uncle. 20 

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking: 

1 shall have such a life ! 

Enter Pandarus. 

Pan. How now, how now! how go maiden- 
heads? Here, you maid! where 's my cousin 
Cressid? 

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking 
uncle! You bring me to do — and then you 
flout me too. 

Pan. To do what? to do what? let her say what: 
what have I brought you to do? 30 

Cres. Come, come, beshrew your heart ! you '11 
ne'er be good, nor suffer others. 
101 



Act IV. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor 
capocchia! hast not slept to-night? would 
he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bug- 
bear take him! 
Cres. Did not I tell you? would he were knocked i' 
the head! [Orie knocks. 

Who 's that at door? good uncle, go and see. 
My lord, come you again into my chamber. 
You smile and mock me, as if I meant 
naughtily. 40 

Tro, Ha, ha! 

Cres. Come, you are deceived, I think of no such 
thing. IKnocJdng. 

How earnestly they knock ! Pray you, come in : 
I would not for half Troy have you seen here. 
[Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. 
Pan. Who 's there? what 's the matter? will you 
beat down the door? How now! what 's the 
matter? 

Enter Mneas. 

JEne. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. 
Pan. Who's there? my Lord ^neas! By my 
troth, 

I knew you not: what news with you so early? 50 
jEne. Is not prince Troilus here? 
Pan. Here! what should he do here? 
JEne. Come, he is here, my lord ; do not deny him : 

It doth import him much to speak with me. 
Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, 

I '11 be sworn : for my own part, I came in 

late. What should he do here? 



I 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. ii. 

JEne. Who ! nay, then : come, come, you '11 do 
him wrong ere you are ware : you '11 be so 
true to him, to be false to him: do not you 60 
know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; 
go. 

Re-enter Troiliis. 

Tro. How now! what's the matter? 

^ne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you. 
My matter is so rash : there is at hand 
Paris your brother and Deiphobus, 
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor 
Deliver'd to us ; and for him forthwith, 
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour. 
We must give up to Diomedes' hand "^^ 

The Lady Cressida. 

Tro. Is it so concluded? 

JEne. By Priam and the general state of Troy. 
They are at hand and ready to effect it. 

Tro. How my achievements mock me! 

I will go meet them: and, my Lord ^neas, 
We met by chance ; you did not find me herCo 

70. "ffive up to Diomedes' hand"; in Caxton's History this part 
of the story is told thus: "Calcas, that by the commandment of 
Apollo had left the Trojans,- had a passing faire daughter and wise, 
named Briseyda, — Chaucer, in his book that he made of Troylus, 
named her Cresida; — for which daughter he prayed to king Agamem- 
non and to the other princes, that they would require the king 
Priaraus to send Briseyda unto him. They prayed enough to king 
Priamus at the instance of Calcas; but the Trojans blamed sore 
Calcas, and called him evil and false traitor, and worthie to die, 
that had left his owne land and naturall lord, for to goe into the 
companie of his mortal enemies: yet, at the petition and earnest 
desire of the Greekes, the king Priamus sent Briseyda to her 
father."— H. N. H. 



103 



Act IV. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

jEne. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature 
Have not more gift in taciturnity. 

[Eoceunt Troilus and ^neas. 

Pan. Is 't possible? no sooner got but lost? 
The devil take Antenor! the young prince 80 
will go mad: a plague upon Antenor! I 
would they had broke 's nepk ! 

Re-enter Cressida. 

Cres. How now! what's the matter? who was 

here? 
Pan. Ah, ah! 
Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where 's my 

lord? gone! Tell me, sweet uncle, what's 

the matter? 
Pan. Would I were as deep under the earth as 

I am above ! 90 

Cres. O the gods! What's the matter? 
Pan. Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst 

ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be 

his death: O, poor gentleman! A plague 

upon Antenor! 
Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees 

I beseech you, what 's the matter? 
Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be 

gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou 

must to thy father, and be gone from Tro- 100 

ilus: 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; 

he cannot bear it. 

77. "secrets of nature"; so Ff. ; Q., "secrets of neighbor Pandar"; 
Theobald, " secret' st things of nature"; Hanraer, "secretest of na- 
tures," &c., &c.— I. G. 

104 



TiROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. m. 

Cres. O you immortal gods ! I will not go. 
Pan. Thou must. 

Cres. I will jiot, uncle : I have forgot my father; 
I know no touch of consanguinity; 
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me 
As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine! 
Make Cressid's name the very crown of false- 
hood, 
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and 
death, HO 

Do to this body what extremes you can ; 
But the stronge base and building of my love 
Is as the very center of the earth. 
Drawing all things to it. I '11 go in and 
weep, — 
Pan. Do, do. 

Cres. Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised 
cheeks, 
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my 

heart 
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from 
Troy. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene III 

^Before Pandarus' house. 

Enter Paris, Troilus, ^neas, Deiphobus, Antenor^ 
and Diomedes. 

Par. It is great morning, and the hour prefix'd 
For her delivery to this valiant Greek 

105 



Act IV. Sc. iv. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Comes fast upon : good my brother Troilus, 
Tell you the lady what she is to do, 
And haste her to the purpose. 

Tro. Walk into her house ; 

I '11 bring her to the Grecian presently : 
And to his hand when I deliver her, 
Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus 
A priest, there offering to it his own heart. 

iExit. 

Par. I know what 'tis to love ; 10 

And would, as I shall pity, I could help ! 
Please you walk in, my lords. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV 

A room in Pandarus'house. 
Enter Pandarus and Cressida. 

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate. 

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation? 

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste. 

And violenteth in a sense as strong 

As that which causeth it: how can I moderate 

it? 
If I could temporize with my affection. 
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 
The like allayment could I give my grief: 
My love admits no qualifying dross ; 
No more my grief, in such a precious loss. 10 

4. "violenteth in a sense as strong, As that which"; so Q. ; Ff. 
read "no lesse in . . . As that which," &c. ; Pope, "in its sense 
is no less strong, than that Which." — I. G. 
106 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc iv. 
Enter Troilus. 

Pan. Here, here, here he Comes. Ah, sweet 
ducks ! 

Cres. O Troilus ! Troilus ! [Embracing him. 

Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let 
me embrace too. 'O heart,' as the goodly 
saying is, 

'O heart, heavy heart. 
Why sigh'st thou without breaking?' 
where he answers again, 

'Because thou canst not ease thy smart 20 
By friendship nor by speaking.' 
There was never a truer rhyme. Let us 
cast away nothing, for we may live to have 
need of such a verse: we see it, we see it. 
How now, lambs ! 

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity, 
That the blest gods, as angry with my fancy, 
More bright in zeal than the devotion which 
Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from 
me. 

Cres. Have the gods envy? 30 

Pan. Aye, aye, aye, aye; 'tis too plain a case. 

Cres. And is it true that I must go from Troy? 

Tro. A hateful truth. 

Cres. What, and from Troilus too? 

Tro. From Troy and Troilus. 

Cres. Is it possible? 

Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance 
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughl}^ by 
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips 

107 



Act IV. Sc. iv. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents 
Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows 
Even in the birth of our own laboring breath : 40 
We two, that with so many thousand sighs 
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves 
With the rude brevity and discharge of one. 
Injurious time now with a robber's haste 
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how: 
As many farewells as be stars in heaven. 
With distinct breath and consign' d kisses to 

them, 
He fumbles up into a loose adieu. 
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss. 
Distasted with the salt of broken tears. 50 

^ne. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready? 

Tro. Hark! you are call'd: some say the Genius so 
Cries 'Come!' to him that instantly must die. 
Bid them have patience ; she shall come anon. 

Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, 
or my heart will be blown up by the root. [E(cit. 

Cres. I must then to the Grecians? 

Tro. No remedy. 

Cres. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks ! 
When shall we see again? 59 

Tro. Hear me, my love : be thou but true of heart. 

'Cres. I true! how now! what wicked deem is this? 

Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly. 
For it is parting from us : 
I speak not 'be thou true,' as fearing thee; 

48. "consigned" means sealed, from consigno. Thus in King 
Henry V: "It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to 
consign to." — H. N. H. 

108 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act iv. Sc. iv. 

For I will throw my glove to Death himself, 
That there 's no maculation in thy heart : 
But 'be thou true' say I, to fashion in 
My sequent protestation; be thou true, 
And I will see thee. 69 

Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers 
As infinite as imminent : but I '11 be true. 

Tro. And I '11 grow friend with danger. Wear 
this sleeve. 

Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? 

Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels. 
To give thee nightly visitation. 
But yet, be true. 

Cres. O heavens! 'Be true' again! 

Tro. Hear why I speak it, love : 

The Grecian youths are full of quality ; 

They 're loving, well composed with gifts of 

nature. 
And flowing o'er with arts and exercise : 80 
How novelties may move and parts with person, 
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy — 

G9. "to fashion in my sequent protestation." "Be thou true" is 
not an injunction, but merely the introductory clause in which his 
subsequent declaration "I will see thee" is ivrapped. — C. H. H. 

73. "Wear this sleeve"; in a comedy, entitled "Histriomastix, or 
the Player Whipt," published in 1610, but written before the death 
of Elizabeth, there is a mock interlude wherein Troilus and Cressida 
are the speakers. The point of the burlesque turns on much the 
same action as is here represented. Some have thought, and ap- 
parently with good reason, that the thing may have been designed 
as a sort of travesty on this scene. Which, of course, is an argu- 
ment, so far as it goes, that this play was originally written before 
1603.— H. N. H. 

77-80. The reading in the text is Staunton's; many emendations 
have been proposed, but this is generally accepted by modern edi- 
tors.— I. G. 

IDE 109 



Act IV. Sc. iv. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin — 
Makes me afeard. 

Cres. O heavens! you love me not. 

Tro. Die I a villain then ! 

In this I do not call your faith in question, 
So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing, 
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, 
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all. 
To which the Grecians are most prompt and 
pregnant : 90 

But I can tell that in each grace of these 
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil 
That tempts most cunningly: but be not 
tempted. 

Cres. Do you think I will? 

Tro. No: 

But something may be done that we will not : 
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers. 
Presuming on their changeful potency. 

^ne. \_Within] Nay, good my lord! 

Tro. Come, kiss ; and let us part. 100 

Par. [Within] Brother Troilus! 

Tro. Good brother, come you hither; 

And bring ^neas and the Grecian with you. 

Cres. My lord, will you be true? 

Tro. Who, I ? alas, it is my vice, my fault : 

Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion, 
I with great truth catch mere simplicity; 
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper 

crowns, 
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. 

110 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act iv. Sc. iv. 

Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit 

Is 'plain and true' ; there 's all the reach of it. HO 

Enter JEneas^ Paris ^ Antenor^ DeiphobuSj and 
Diomedes, 

Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady 
Which for Antenor we deliver you : 
At the port, lord, I '11 give her to thy hand; 
And by the way possess thee what she is. 
Entreat her fair ; and, by my soul, fair Greek, 
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword, 
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe 
As Priam is in Ilion. 

Dio. Fair Lady Cressid, 

So please you, save the thanks this prince ex- 
pects : 
The luster in your eye, heaven in your cheek, 120 
Pleads your fair usage ; and to Diomed 
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. 

Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously. 
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee 
In praising her : I tell thee, lord of Greece, 
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises 
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant. 
I charge thee use her well, even for my charge ; 
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, 129 
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, 
I '11 cut thy throat. 

Dio. O, be not moved. Prince Troilus : 

Let me be privileged by my place and message 
To be a speaker free ; when I am hence, 
I '11 answer to my lust : and know you, lord, 
111 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

I '11 nothing do on charge : to her own worth 
She shall be prized ; but that you say 'Be 't so,* 
I '11 speak it in my spirit and honor 'No !' 

Tro. Come, to the port. I '11 tell thee, Diomed, 
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head. 
Lady, give me your hand : and, as we walk, 140 
To our own selves bend we our needful talk. 

[Exeunt TroiluSj Cressida, and Diomedes. 
[A trumpet sounds. 

Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet. 

^ne. How have we spent this morning! 

The prince must think me tardy and remiss, 
That swore to ride before him to the field. 

Par. ^Tis Troilus' fault: come, come, to field with 
him. 

Dei. Let us make ready straight. 

JEne. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity, 
Let us address to tend on Hector's heels : 
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie 
On his fair worth and single chivalry. 150 

[Exeunt. 

Scene V 

The Grecian camp. Lists set out. 

Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patro- 
cluSj MenelauSj Ulysses, Nestor, and others. 

A gam. Here art thou in appointment fresh and 
fair, 
Anticipating time with starting courage. 

146-150; V. 165-170. Omitted in Q.— I. G. 
112 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. v. 

Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, 
Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air 
May pierce the head of the great combatant 
And hale him hither. 

Ajax. Thou, trumpet, there 's my purse. 

Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe ; 
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek 
Outswell the colic of pufF'd Aquilon : 
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout 
blood; • 10 

Thou blow'st for Hector. [Trumpet sounds. 

Ulyss. No trumpet answers. 

Achil. 'Tis but early days. 

Agam. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daugh- 
ter? 

Ulyss. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; 
He rises on the toe : that spirit of his 
In aspiration lifts him from the earth. 

Enter Diomedes, with Cressida. 

Agam, Is this the Lady Cressid? 

Dio. Even she. 

Agam. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet 

lady. 
Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. 
Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particular ; 20 

'Twere better she were kiss'd in general. 
Nest. And very courtly counsel: I '11 begin. 

So much for Nestor. 
Achil. I '11 take that winter from your lips, fair 
lady: 

Achilles bids you welcome. 

:jiXII-8 113 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Men. I had good argument for kissing once. 
Pair. But that 's no argument for kissing now ; 

For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment, 

And parted thus you and your argument. 
JJlyss. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns ! 

For which we lose our heads to gild his horns. 31 
Pair. The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine: 

Patroclus kisses you. 
Men. O, this is trim! 

Pair. Paris and I kiss evermore for him. 
Men. I '11 have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave. 
Cres. In kissing, do you render or receive? 
Men. Both take and give. 
Cres. I '11 make my match to live. 

The kiss you take is better than you give ; 

Therefore no kiss. 
Men. I '11 give you boot, I '11 give you three for 
one. 40 

Cres. You 're an odd man ; give even, or give none. 
JMen. An odd man, lady ! every man is odd. 
Cres. No, Paris is not ; for, you know, 'tis true. 

That you are odd, and he is even with you. 
Men. Yoii fillip me o' the head. 
Cres. No, I '11 be sworn. 

Ulyss. It were no match, your nail against his horn. 

May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? 
Cres. You may. 
Ulyss. I do desire it. 

29. Omitted in Ff.; the reading of Q.; Collier MS. reads "And 
parted you and your same argument." — I. G. 

33. "Patroclus kisses you"; Patroclus first kisses her in Menelaus' 
name, then in his own. — C. H. H. 

42. "every man i^ odd"; i. e. single, one. — C. H. H. 
11-i 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. v. 

Cres. Why, beg then. 

Ulyss. Why, then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss. 
When Helen is a maid again, and his. 50 

Cres. I am your debtor ; claim it when 'tis due. 

Ulyss. Never 's my day, and then a kiss of you. 

Dio. Lady, a word : I '11 bring you to your father. 

[Exit with Ct^essida. 

Nest. A woman of quick sense. 

Ulyss. Fie, fie upon her! 

There 's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, 
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look 

out 
At every joint and motive of her body. 
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue. 
That give accosting welcome ere it comes. 
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts 
To every ticklish reader ! set them down 61 

For sluttish spoils of opportunity, 
And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within. 

All. The Trojans' trumpet. 

A gam. Yonder comes the troop. 

Flourish. Enter Hector, armed; Mneas, Troilus, 
and other Trojans, with Attendants. 

jEne. Hail, all the state of Greece! what shall be 
done 

To him that victory commands? or do you pur- 
pose 

A victory shall be known? will you the knights 

Shall to the edge of all extremity 

59. "accosting," Theobald's conj.; Q., Ff., "a coasting"; Collier 
MS., "occasion" &c. — I. G. 

115 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILtrS AND CEESSIDA 

Pursue each other, or shall they be divided 
By any voice or order of the field? 70 

Hector bade ask. 

A gam. Which way would Hector have it? 

^ne. He cares not ; he '11 obey conditions. 

Achil. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done, 
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing 
The knight opposed. 

JEne. If not Achilles, sir. 

What is your name? 

Achil. If not Achilles, nothing. 

JEne. Therefore Achilles: but, whate'er, know 
this : 
In the extremity of great and little, 
Valor and pride excel themselves in Hector; 
The one almost as infinite as all, 80 

The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well. 
And that which looks like pride is courtesy. 
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood: 
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home; 
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to 

seek 
This blended knight, half Trojan and half 
Greek. 

Achil. A maiden battle then? O, I perceive you. 

Re-enter Diomedes. 
Agam. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight, 

79. "Valor" is in Hector greater than valor in other men, and 
pride in Hector is less than pride in other men. — H. N. H. 

83. "Ajax is half made of Hector's blood"; Ajax and Hector were 
cousins-german. — H. N. H. 

116 



TROILUS AND CEESSIDA Act IV. Sc. v. 

Stand by our Ajax: as you and Lord ^neas 
Consent upon the order of their fight, 90 

So be it ; either to the uttermost. 
Or else a breath: the combatants being kin 
Half stints their strife before their strokes 
begin. [AjacV and Hector enter the lists. 

XJlyss, They are opposed already. 

A gam. What Trojan is that same that looks so 
heavy? 

Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight, 
Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word. 
Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue. 
Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon 

calm'd ; 
His heart and hand both open and both free ; 100 
For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows ; 
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, 
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath; 
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous ; 
For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes 
To tender objects, but he in heat of action 
Is more vindicative than jealous love: 
They call him Troilus, and on him erect 
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector. 
Thus says ^neas ; one that knows the youth HO 
Even to his inches, and with private soul 
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. 

[Alarum. Hector and Ajaoc fight. 

A gam. They are in action. 

Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own! 

90, "consent"; agree. — C. H. H. 
117 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Tro. Hector, thou sleep'st; 

Awake thee! 

Again. His blows are well disposed: there, Ajax! 

Dio. You must no more. [Trumpets cease. 

^ne. Princes, enough, so please you. 

Ajax. I am not warm yei\ let us fight again. 

Dio. As Hector pleases. 

Hect. Why, then will I no more : 

Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, 
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; 121 
The obligation of our blood forbids 
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain : 
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, 
That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all, 
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg 
All Greek, and this all Troy ; my mother's blood 
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister 
Bounds in my father's;' by Jove multipotent, 
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish 
member 130 

Wherein my sword had not impressure made 
Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay 
That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy 

mother. 
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword 
Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax: 
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms ; 
Hector would have them fall upon him thus: 
Cousin, all honor to thee! 

^2 yXOD. I thank thee. Hector : 

Thou art too gentle and too free a man : 
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence 140 

118 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. v. 

A great addition earned in thy death. 
Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable, 

On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st 
Oyes 

Cries 'This is he,' could promise to himself 

A thought of added honor torn from Hector. 
j^ne. There is expectance here from both the sides, 

AVhat further you will do. 
Hect. We '11 answer it ; 

The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell. 
Ajaoc. If I might in entreaties find success, — 

As seld I have the chance — I would desire 150 

My famous cousin to our Grecian tents. 
Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles 

Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector. 
Hect. ^neas, call my brother Troilus to me: 

And signify this loving interview 

To the expecters of our Trojan part; 

Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my 
cousin ; 

I will go eat w^ith thee, and see your knights. 
Ajasc. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. 
Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by name ; 

But Achilles, my own searching eyes 161 

Shall find him by his large and portly size. 
A gam. Worthy of arms ! as welcome as to one 

142. "Neoptolemus so mirable"; Hanmer reads "Neoptolemus sire 
so mirable"; Warbiirton, "Neoptolemus's sire irascible"; Collier 
conj. "Neoptolemus so admirable," &c. — I. G. 

158. "see your knights"; these knights, to the amount of about 
two hundred thousand, Shakespeare found with all the appendages 
of chivalry in The Old Troy Book. Eques and armiger, rendered 
knight and squire, excite ideas of chivalry. Pope, in his Homer, 
has been liberal in his use of the latter. — H. N, H. 
119 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

That would be rid of such an enemy; 

But that 's no welcome : understand more clear, 

What 's past and what 's to come is strew'd with 

husks 
And formless ruin of oblivion ; 
But in this extant moment, faith and troth, 
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing. 
Bids thee, with most divine integrity, 170 

From heart of very heart, great Hecxor, wel- 
come. 
Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. 
Agam. [To Troilus~\ My well-famed lord of Troy, 

no less to you. 
Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's greet- 
ing; 
You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. 
Hect. Who must we answer? 

^ne. The noble Menelaus. 

Hect. O, you, my lord! by Mars his gauntlet, 
thanks ! 
Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath; 
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' 

glove : 
She 's well, but bade me not commend her to 
you. 180 

Men. Name her not now, sir ; she 's a deadly theme. 
Hect. O, pardon; I offend. 
Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, 
Laboring for destiny, make cruel way 
Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have 

seen thee, 
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, 

120 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act iv. Sc. v. 

Despising many forfeits and subduements, 
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' 

the air, 
'Not letting it decline on the declined, 
That I have said to some my standers by 190 
'Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life !' 
And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath, 
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee 

in. 
Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen; 
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel, 
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire. 
And once fought with him: he was a soldier 

good; 
But, by great Mars the captain of us all, 
Never like thee. Let an old man embrace thee ; 
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. 200 

JEne. ^Tis the old Nestor. 

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, 
That hast so long walk'd hand and hand with 

time: 
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee. 

Nest. I would my arms could match thee in con- 
tention. 
As they contend with thee in courtesy. 

Hect. I would they could. 

Nest. Ha! 

By this white beard, I'ld fight thee to-mor- 
row: 
Well, welcome, welcome ! — I have seen the time. 

187. "Despising many forfeits and subduements" ; i. e. disdaining 
to slay and vanquish many whose lives were in his power. — C. H. H. 
121 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands, 211 
When we have here her base and pillar by us. 

Hect. I know your favor, Lord Ulysses, well. 
Ah, sir, there 's many a Greek and Trojan dead. 
Since first I saw yourself and Diomed 
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy. 

Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue: 
My prophecy is but half his journey yet; 
For yonder walls, that pertly front j'^our town, 
Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the 
clouds, 220 

Must kiss their own feet. 

Hect. I must not believe you : 

There they stand yet ; and modestly I think, 
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost 
A drop of Grecian blood : the end crowns all, 
And that old common arbitrator. Time, 
Will one day end it. 

Ulyss. So to him we leave it. 

Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome : 
After the general, I beseech you next 
To feast with me and see me at my tent. 

Achil. I shall forestall thee. Lord Ulysses, thou ! 230 
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; 
I have with exact view perused thee. Hector, 
And quoted joint by joint. 

233. "quoted" is observed, noted. — The incident of Achilles' view- 
ing Hector "limb by limb" is narrated in Homer's twenty-second 
Book. We subjoin Chapman's version of the passage, though 
Shakespeare probably had not seen it when he wrote this play, as 
only the first nineteen Books of that version were published be- 
fore 1611: 

"His bright and sparkling eyes 
Look'd through the body of his foe, and sought through all that prize 
122 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act iv. Sc. v. 

Hect. Is this Achilles? 

Achil. I am Achilles. 

Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee : let me look on thee. 

Achil. Behold thy fill. 

Hect. Nay, I have done already. 

Achil. Thou art too brief: I will the second time. 
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb, 

Hect. O, like a book of sport thou 'It read me o'er ; 
But there 's more in me than thou understand'st. 
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye ? 241 

Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his 
body 
Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there, or 

there ? 
That I may give the local wound a name, 
And make distinct the very breach whereout 
Hector's great spirit flew: answer me, heavens! 

Hect. It would discredit the blest gods, proud man, 
To answer such a question : stand again : 
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly. 
As to prenominate in nice conjecture 250 

Where thou wilt hit me dead? 

Achil. I tell thee, yea. 

Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so. 

The next way to his thirsted life. Of all ways, only one 
Appear'd to him; and this was, where tl? unequal winding bone, 
That joins the shoulders and the neck, had place, and where there 

lay 
The speeding way of death; and there his quick eye could display 
The place it sought, — even through the arms his friend Patroclus 

wore 
When Hector slew him." — H. N. H. 



l%$ 



Act IV. Sc. V. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

I 'Id not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee 
well : 

For I '11 not kill thee there, nor there, nor there ; 

But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, 
, I '11 kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er. 

You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag; 

His insolence draws folly from my lips; 

But I '11 endeavor deeds to match these words. 

Or may I never — 
Ajax. Do not chafe thee, cousin: 260 

And you, Achilles, let these threats alone 

Till accident or purpose bring you to 't: 

You may have every day enough of Hector, 

If you have stomach : the general state, I fear. 

Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. 
Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field : 

We have had pelting wars since you refused 

The Grecians' cause. 
Achil. Dost thou entreat me. Hector? 

To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death ; 

To-night all friends. 
Hect. Thy hand upon that match. 270 

Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my 
tent ; 

There in the full convive we : afterwards. 

As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall 

Concur together, severally entreat him. 

Beat loud the taborines, let the trumpets blow. 

That this great soldier may his welcome know. 
[Exeunt all hut Troilus and Ulysses. 
Tro. My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you. 

In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? 
134) 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act IV. Sc. v. 

Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus : 
There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; 280 
Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth, 
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view 
On the fair Cressid. 

Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, 
After we part from Agamemnon's tent, 
To bring me thither? 

Ulyss. You shall command me, sir. 

As gentle tell me, of what honor was 
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there 
That wails her absence? 

Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars, 290 
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? 
She was beloved, she loved ; she is, and doth : 
But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. 

lEiVeunt. 



1^5 



Act V. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



ACT FIFTH 

Scene I 

The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent. 

Enter Achilles and Patroclus. 

Achil. I '11 heat his blood with Greekish wine to- 
night, 

Which with my scimitar I '11 cool to-morrow. 

Patroclus, let us feast him to the height. 
Pair. Here comes Thersites. 

Enter Thersites, 

Achil. How now, thou core of envy ! 

Thou crusty batch of nature, what 's the news? 
Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, 

and idol of idiot-worshipers, here 's a letter 

for thee. 
Achil. From whence, fragment? 
Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. 10 
Patr. Who keeps the tent now? 

4. "core of envy"; so in the folio; in the quarto, "cur of en\y," 
which is a very suitable epithet of the snarling and biting Thersites, 
and is elsewhere applied to him. It seems uncertain which is the 
better reading here. Of course "core of envy" is "heart of envy," 
and it has the advantage in variety, if in nothing else. — H. N. H. 

5. A "batch" is all that is baked at one time, without heating the 
oven afresh. So Ben Jonson in his Cataline: "Except he were of 
the same meal and batch." — H. N. H. 

12G 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. i. 

Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's 
wound. 

Pair. Well said, adversity ! and what need" these 
tricks? 

Ther. Prithee, be silent, boy ; I profit not by thy 
talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male 
varlet. 

Pair. Male varlet, you rogue! what 's that? 

Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now, the 20 
rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, 
ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' the back, 
lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten 
livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of im- 
posthume, sciaticas, limekilns i' the palm, 
incurable bone-ache, and the riveled fee- 
simple of the tetter, take and take again 
such preposterous discoveries! 

Pair. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, 
what mean'st thou to curse thus ? 3^0 

Ther. Do I curse thee? 

Pair. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whore- 
son indistinguishable cur, no. 

Ther. No! why art thou then exasperate, thou 
idle immaterial skein of sleave silk, thou 
green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel 

13. "The surgeon's box"; in his answer Thersites quibbles upon 
the word tent.—H. N. H. 

14. "adversity" is here used for contrariety; the reply of Thersites 
having been studiously adverse to the drift of the question urged by 
Patroclus.— H. N. H. 

23-27. "raw . . . tetter," the reading of Q. ; omitted in Ff., 
substituting "and the like." — I. G. 

33. "indistinguishable" ; Patroclus reproaches Thersites with de- 
formity, with having one part crowded into another. — H. N. H. 
127 



\ct V. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the 
poor world is pestered with such waterflies, 
diminutives of nature ! 

Fair. Out, gall! 40 

Ther. Finch-egg!, 

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite 
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle. 
Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, 
A token from her daughter, my fair love. 
Both taxing me and gaging me to keep 
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it : 
Fall Greeks ; fail fame ; honor or go or stay; 
My major vow lies here, this I '11 obey. 
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent : 50 
This night in banqueting must all be spent. 
Away, Patroclus! 

[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. 

Ther. With too much blood and too little brain, 
these two may run mad; but, if with too 
much brain and too little blood they do, I '11 
be a curer of madmen. Here 's Agamem- 
non, an honest fellow enough and one 
that loves quails; but he has not so much 
brain as ear-wax: and the goodly transfor- 
mation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, 60 
the primitive statue and oblique memorial of 
cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, 
hanging at his brother's leg, — to what form 

58. By "quails" are meant women, and probably those of a looser 
description. "Caille coeffee" is a sobriquet for a harlot. Chaud 
comme un caille is a French proverb; the quail being remarkably 
salacious. — H. N. H. 

63. "hanging at his brother's leg"; so Ff.; Q. reads "at his bare 
leg."— I. G. 

128 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act v. Sc. i. 

but that he is, should wit larded with malice 
and malice forced with wit turn him to ? To 
an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: 
to an ox, were nothing ; he is both ox and ass. 
To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, 
a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring with- 
out a roe, I would not care; but to be Mene- 'J'O 
laus! I would conspire against destiny. 
Ask me not what I would be, if I were not 
Thersites ; for I care not to be the louse of a 
lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hoy-day! 
spirits and fires! 

Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajacc, Agamemnon, Ulys- 
ses, Nestor, Menelaus, 'and Diomedes, 
with lights. 

A gam. We go wrong, we go wrong. 

Ajaa:. No yonder 'tis; 

There, where we see the lights. 
Hect. I trouble you. 

Ajoj:. No, not a whit. 

Re-enter Achilles. 

Ulyss. Here comes himself to guide you. 

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes 

all. 
Agam. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good 

night. 80 

Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. 
Hect. Thanks and good night to the Greeks' 

general. 

75. "spirits and fires"; this is spoken by Thersites, upon the first 
sight of the distant lights.— H. N. H. 
XXII— 9 1 .)Q 



Act V. Sc. i. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Men. Good night, my lord. 

Hect. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus. 

Ther. Sweet draught: sweet, quoth a'! sweet sink, 

sweet sewer. 
Achil. Good night and welcome, both at once, to 
those 
That go or tarry. 
Agam. Good night. 

[Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus. 
Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, 
Keep Hector company an hour or two. 90 

Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business. 
The tide whereof is now. Good night, great 
Hector. 
Hect. Give me your hand. 

JJlyss. [Aside to Troilus'] Follow his torch; he 
goes to Calchas' tent: 
I '11 keep you company. 
Tro. Sweet, sir, you honor me. 

Hect. And so, good night. 

[Eacit Diomedes; Ulysses and Troilus following. 
Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. 

[Exeunt Achilles J Hector, Ajax, and Nestor. 
Ther. That same Diomed 's a false-hearted 
rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more 
trust him when he leers than I will a ser- 100 
pent when he hisses : he will spend his mouth 
and promise, like Brabbler the hound; but 
when he performs, astronomers foretell it; 
it is prodigious, there will come some change ; 

85. "draught" is the old word for forica. It is used in the trans- 
lation of the Bible, in Holinshed, and by all old writers. — H. N. H. 
130 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. ii. 

the sun borrows of the moon when Diomed 
keeps his word. I will rather leave to see 
Hector than not to dog him: they say he 
keeps a Trojan drab and uses the traitor Cal- 
chas' tent : I '11 after. Nothing but lech- 
ery ! all incontinent varlets ! [^Ea^it. HO 



Scene II 

The same. Before Calchas' tent. 

Enter Diomedes. 

Dio. What, are you up here, ho? speak. 

Cal [Within^ Who calls? 

Dio. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where 's your 

daughter ? 
Cal. [Within] She comes to you. 

Enter Troilus and Ulysses, at a distance; after 
them, Thersites. 

Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us. 

Enter Cressida. 

Tro. Cressid comes forth to him. 

Dio. How now, my charge ! 

Cres. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word 

with you. [Whispers. 

Tro. Yea, so familiar ! 
Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. 
Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can 10 

take her cliff; she 's noted. 
131 



Act V. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Dio. Will you remember? 
Cres. Remember! yes. 
Dio. Nay, but do, then; 

And let your mind be coupled with your words. 
Tro. What should she remember ? 
TJlyss. List. 
Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to 

folly. 
Ther. Roguery! 

Dio. Nay, then,— 20 

Cres. I '11 tell you what, — 

Dio. Fob, fob! come, tell a pin: you are forsworn. 
Cres. In faith, I cannot: what would you have me 

do? 
Ther. A juggling trick, — to be secretly open. 
Dio. What did you swear you would bestow on me? 
Cres. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath ; 

Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek. 
Dio. Good night. 
Tro. Hold, patience! 

Ulyss. How now, Trojan! 30 

Cres. Diomed, — 

Dio. No, no, good night : I '11 be your fool no more. 
Tro. Thy better must. 
Cres. Hark, one word in your ear. 
Tro. O plague and madness ! 

Ulyss. You are moved, prince; let us depart, I 
pray you. 

Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself 

To wrathful terms : this place is dangerous ; 

The time right deadly ; I beseech you, go. 
Tro. 'Behold, I pray you! 

132 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act v. Sc. ii. 

Ulyss. Nay, good my lord, go off ; 40 

You flow to great distraction ; come, my lord. 

Tro. I pray thee, stay. 

Ulyss. You have not patience ; come. 

Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's 
torments, 
I will not speak a word. 

Dio. And so, good night. 

Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. 

Tro. Doth that grieve thee? 

wither'd truth ! 

Ulyss. Why, how now, lord ! 

Tro. By Jove, 

1 will be patient. 

Cres. Guardian! — ^why, Greek! 

Dio. Fob, fob! adieu; you palter. 
Ci'es. In faith, I do not : come hither once again. 
Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something: will 
you go? 50 

You will break out. 
Tro, She strokes his cheek! 

Ulyss. Come, come. 

Tro. Nay, stay ; by Jove, I will not speak a word : 

There is between my will and all offenses 

A guard of patience : stay a Httle while. 
Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump 

and potato-finger, tickles these together! 

Fry, lechery, fry! 
Dio. But will you, then? 
Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else. 
Dio. Give me some token for the surety of it. 60 
Cres. I '11 fetch you one. [Exit, 



Act V. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. You have sworn patience. 

Tro. Fear me not, sweet lord ; 

I will not be myself, nor have cognition 

Of what I feel: I am all patience. 

Re-enter Cressida. 

Tro. Now the pledge ; now, now, now ! 

Cres. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. 

Tro. O beauty! where is thy faith? 

Ulyss. My lord, — 

Tro. I will be patient; outwardly I will. 

Cres. You look upon that sleeve ; behold it well. 
He loved me — O false wench ! — Give 't me 
again. 70 

I>io. Whose was 't? 

Cres. It is no matter, now I have 't again. 
I will not meet with you to-morrow night : 
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. 

Ther. Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone! 

Dio. I shall have it. 

Cres. What, this? 

Dio. Aye, that. 

66. "keep this sleeve" ; of course this is the sleeve that Troilus 
gave Cressida in the fourth scene of Act IV, when she gave him a 
glove in return. Probably it was such a sleeve as was anciently 
worn at tournaments; thus described in Spenser's View of the State 
of Ireland: "The deepe smocke sleive, which the Irish women use, 
they say, was old Spanish, and is used yet in Barbary: and yet that 
should seeme rather to be an old English fashion; for in armory 
the fashion of the Manche, which is given in armes by many, being 
indeede nothing else but a sleive, is fashioned much like to that 
sleive. And that Knights in ancient times used to weare their 
mistresses or loves sleive upon their armes, appeareth by that which 
is written of Sir Launcelot, that he wore the sleive of the faire 
Maide of Asteloth in a tourney, whereat Queene Guenever was much 
displeased," — H. N. H. 

134 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. ii. 

Cres. O, all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge! 

Thy master now lies thinking in his bed 

Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, 

And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, 80 

As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me ; 

He that takes that doth take my heart withal. 
Dio. I had your heart before ; this follows it. 
Tro. I did swear patience. 

Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you 
shall not; 

I '11 give you something else. 
Dio. I will have this: whose was it? 
Cres. It is no matter. 

Dio. Come, tell me whose it was. 
Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you 
will. 

But, now you have it, take it. 
Dio. Whose was it? 90 

Cres. By all Diana's waiting-women yond, 

And by herself, I will not tell you whose. 
Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm. 

And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. 
Tro. Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn, 

It should be challenged. 
Cres. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it 
is not; 

I will not keep my word. 
Dio. Why then, farewell; 

Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. 
Cres. You shall not go: one cannot speak a word. 

But it straight starts you. 101 

Dio. I do not like this fooling. 

185 



Act V. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto : but that that Hkes not you 

Pleases me best. 
,Dio. What, shall I come? the hour? 

Cres, Aye, come: O Jove! do come: I shall be 

plagued. 
Dio. Farewell till then. 

Cres. Good night : I prithee, come. 

[Exit Diomedes. 
Troilus, farewell ! one eye yet looks on thee, 
But with my heart the other eye doth see. 
Ah, poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, 
The error of our eye directs our mind: HO 

What error leads must err; O, then conclude 
Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. 

lEmt, 

112. In the foregoing dialogue we trace very distinctly the Poet's 
reading of Chaucer, who tells the story with great sweetness and 
pathos in the fifth Book of his poem. Our quotation must stop 
with these four stanzas: 

"The morrow came, and, ghostly for to speke, 
This Diomede is come unto Creseide; 
And shortly, least that ye my tale breke, 
So well he for himselfe spake and seide. 
That all her sighes sore doune he leide; 
And finally, the soothe for to saine. 
He refte her the great of all her paine. 

"And after this, the story telleth us 
That she him yave the faire bay stede. 
The which she ones wan of Troilus, 
And eke a brooch (and that was little nede) 
That Troilus' was, she yave this Diomede; 
And eke, the bet from sorow him to releve. 
She made him weare a pencell of her sieve. 

"I find eke in stories elsewhere, 
Whan through the body hurt was Diomede 
Of Troilus, tho wept she many a tere, 
136 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. ii. 

Ther. A proof of strength she could not pubhsh 
more, 

Unless she said 'My mind is now turn'd whore.' 
JJlyss. All 's done, my lord. 
Tro. It is. 

JJlyss. Why stay we then? 

2Vo. To make a recordation to my soul 

Of every syllable that here was spoke. 

But if I tell how these two did co-act, 

Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? 

Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, 120 

An esperance so obstinately strong. 

That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears ; 

As if those organs had deceptions functions, 

Created only to calumniate. 

Was Cressid here? 
JJlyss. I cannot conjure, Trojan. 

Tro. She was not, sure. 

JJlyss. Most sure she was. 

Tro. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. 

When that she saw his wide woundes blede, 
And that she tooke to kepen him good hede. 
And for to healen him of his smart: 
Men saine, I n'ot, that she yave him her herte. 

"But truely the storie telleth us, 
There made never woman more wo 
Than she, whan that she falsed Troilus: 
She said, 'Alas! for now is clene ago 
My name in trouth of Jove forevermo; 
For I have falsed one the gentillest 
That ever was, and one the worthiest.' " — H. N. H, 

113. "a proof"; she could not publish a stronger proof. — H. N. H. 
122. "attest of eyes"; that is, turns the very testimony of seeing 
and hearing against themselves. — H. N. H. 

137, 



Act V. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but 
now. 

Tro. Let it not be believed for womanhood! 

Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage 
To stubborn critics, apt without a theme 1^1 

For depravation, to square the general sex 
By Cressid's rule : rather think this not Cressid. 

Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil 
our mothers? 

Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. 

Ther. Will a' swagger himself out on 's own eyes? 

Tro. This she ? no, this is Diomed's Cressida : 
If beauty have a soul, this is not she; 
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies. 
If sanctimony be the gods' delight, 140 

If there be rule in unity itself. 
This is not she. O madness of discourse, 
That cause sets up with and against itself! 
Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt 
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason 
Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid! 
Within my soul there doth conduce a fight 
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate 
Divides more wider than the sky and earth ; 
And yet the spacious breadth of this division 150 
Admits no orif ex for a point as subtle 
As Ariachne's broken woof to enter. 
Instance, O instance ! strong as Pluto's gates ; 
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven : 
Instance, O instance ! strong as heaven itself : 

141. "If there be rule in unity itself"; if one is one. — C. H. H. 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. ii. 

The bonds of heaven are shpp'd, dissolved and 

loosed; 
And with another knot, five-finger-tied, 
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, 
The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics 
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed. 

Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd 161 
With that which here his passion doth express? 

Tro. Aye, Greek; and that shall be divulged well 
In characters as red as Mars his heart 
Inflamed with Venus: never did young man 

fancy 
With so eternal and so fix'd a soul. 
Hark, Greek : as much as I do Cressid love, 
So much by weight hate I her Diomed : 
That sleeve is mine that he '11 bear on his helm : 
Were it a casque composed by Vulcan's skill, 170 
My sword should bite it : not the dreadful spout 
Which shipmen do the hurricano call, 
Constringed in mass by the almighty sun. 
Shall dizzy with more clamor Neptune's ear 
In his descent, than shall my prompted sword 
Falling on Diomed. 

Ther. He '11 tickle it for his concupy. 

Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, 
false! 
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name. 
And they '11 seem glorious. 

162. "doth express"; "Can Troilus really feel, on this occasion, half 
of what he utters?" A question suitable to the calm Ulysses. — 
H. N. H. 

177. "concupy"; a cant word for concupiscence. — H. N. H. 

139 



Act V. Sc. ii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ulyss. O, contain yourself; 180 

Your passion draws ears hither. 

Enter JEneas. 

\^ne. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord: 
Hector by this is arming him in Troy; 
Ajax your guard stays to conduct you home. 

Tro. Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, 
adieu. 
Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed, 
Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head I 

Ulyss. I '11 bring you to the gates. 

Tro, Accept distracted thanks. 

[Exeunt Troilus, yEneas, and Ulysses. 

Ther. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed ! 190 
I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I 
would bode. Patroclus will give me any 
thing for the intelligence of this whore; the 
parrot will not do more for an almond than 
he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lech- 
ery ! still wars and lechery ! nothing else holds 
fashion. A burning devil take them! [Exit. 

185. "Have with you"; I'll go with you. — C. H. H, 
187. "wear a castle on thy head"; that is, defend thy head with 
armor of more than common security. So in the History of Prince 
Arthur, 1634: "Do thou thy best, said Sir Gawaine; therefore hie 
thee fast that thou wert gone, and wit thou well we shall soon come 
after, and breake the strongest castle that thou hast upon thy 
head." It appears that a kind of close helmet was called a castle. — 
H. N. H. 



140 



IROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. iii. 



Scene III 

Troy. Before Priam's palace. 

Enter Hector and Andromache. 

And. When was my lord so much ungently 
temper'd. 
To stop his ears against admonishment ? 
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. 
Hect. You train me to offend you ; get you in : 

By all the everlasting gods, I '11 go ! 
And. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the 

day. 
Hect. No more, I say. 

Enter Cassandra. 

Cas. Where is my brother Hector? 

And. Here, sister ; arm'd, and bloody in intent. 

6. "My dreams"; that is, mj dreams of the night forebode ill to 
the day. — The incident is thus related in Caxton's fi^j'sfor?/; "Androm- 
eda saw that night a marvellous vision, and her seemed, if Hector 
went that day to the battle, he should be slaine. And she, that 
had great fear and dread of her husband, weeping said to him, 
praying that he would not go to the battle that day: whereof Hec- 
tor blamed his wife, saying that she should not believe nor give 
faith to dreams, and would not abide nor tarry therefore." Shake- 
speare was familiar, no doubt, with Chaucer's brief account in The 
Nonnes Preestes Tale: 

"Lo, hire Andromacha, Hectores wif. 
That day that Hector shulde lese his lif. 
She dremed on the same night beforne 
How that the lif of Hector shuld be lorne. 
If thilke day he went into bataille: 
She warned him, but it might not availle; 
He went forth for to fighten natheles, 
And was yslain anon of Achilles." — H. N. H, 
He 14i 



Act V. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Consort with me in loud and dear petition ; 
Pursue we him on knees ; for I have dream'd 10 
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night 
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of 
slaughter. 

Cas. O, 'tis true. 

Hect. Ho! bid my trumpet sound! 

Cas. 'No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet 
brother. 

Hect. Be gone, I say: the gods have heard me 
swear. 

Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows : 
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd 
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. 

And. O, be persuaded! do not count it holy 

To hurt by being just: it is as lawful, 20 

For we would give much, to use violent thefts 
And rob in the behalf of charity. 

Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; 
But vows to every purpose must not hold: 
Unarm, sweet Hector. 

Hect. Hold you still, I say ; 

Mine honor keeps the weather of my fate: 
Life every man holds dear ; but the dear man 
Holds honor far more precious-dear than life. 

Enter Troilus. 

How now, young man ! mean'st thou to fight to- 
day? 

20-21. "as lawful. For we would give- much, to use violent thefts"; 
Tyrwhitt's conj.; Ff. read, "as lawfull;. For we would count give 
much to as violent thefts." — I. G. 

142 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act v. Sc. iii. 

^WiZ. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. 30 

[Eojit Cassandra. 

Hect. No, faith, young Troilus ; doff thy harness, 
youth : 
I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry : 
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, 
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. 
Unarm thee, go ; and doubt thou not, brave boy, 
I '11 stand to-day for thee and me and Troy. 

Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you. 
Which better fits a lion than a man. 

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me 
for it. 

Tro. When many times the captive Grecian falls, 40 
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, 
You bid them rise and live. 

Hect. O, 'tis fair play. 

Tro. Fool's play, by heaven. Hector. 

Hect. HOw now! how now! 

Tro.- For the love of all the gods. 

Let 's leave the hermit pity with our mother ; 
And when we have our armors buckled on. 
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords. 
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from 
ruth! 

Hect. Fie, savage, fie ! 

Tro. Hector, then 'tis wars. 

37, 38. "vice of mercy . . . fits a lion" ; the traditions and 
stories of the darker ages abounded with examples of the lion's 
generosity. Upon the supposition that these acts of clemency were 
true, Troilus reasons not improperly, that to spare against reason, 
by mere instinct and pity, became rather a generous beast than a 
wise man, — H. N. H. 

143 



Act V. Sc iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day. 
Tro. Who should withhold me? 51 

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars 

Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; 

Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, 

Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears ; 

Nor you, my brother, with your true sword 
drawn, 

Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way, 

But by my ruin. 

Re-enter Cassandra^ "with Priam. 

Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast : 
He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay", 60 
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, 
Fall all together. 

Pri. Come, Hector, come, go back : 

Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had 

visions ; 
Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself 
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt, 
To tell thee that this day is ominous: 
Therefore, come back. 

Hect. ^neas is afield; 

And I do stand engaged to many Greeks, 
Even in the faith of valor, to appear 
This morning to them. 

Pri. Aye, but thou shalt not go. 70 

Hect. I must not break my faith. 

You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, 
Let me not shame respect ; but give me leave 
To take that course by your consent and voice, 

,1-14 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. iii. 

Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. 
Cas. O Priam, yield not to him ! 
And. Do not, dear father. 

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you : 

Upon the love you bear me, get you in. 

[Eocit Andromache. 
Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl 

Makes all these bodements. 
Cas. O, farewell, dear Hector! 80 

Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns 
pale ! 

Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents ! 

Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out! 

How poor Andromache shrills her dolors forth ! 

Behold^ distraction, frenzy and amazement, 

Like witless antics, one another meet, 

And all cry 'Hector ! Hector 's dead ! O Hector !' 

T8. "get you in"; the Destruction of Troy continues the story thus: 
"In the morning Andromeda went to the king Priamus, and to the 
queene, and told them the verity of her vision, and jarayed them 
with all her heart, that they would do so much at her request as to 
dissuade Hector, that he should not in any wise that day go to the 
battle. It happened that the day was faire and clear, and the 
Trojans armed them, and Troylus issued first into the battle; after 
him Eneas. And the king Priamus sent to Hector, that he should 
keepe him well that day from going to battle. Wherefore Hector 
was angry, and said to his wife many reproachful words, as that 
he knew well that this commandment came by her request: yet, 
notwithstanding the forbidding, he armed him. At this instant 
came the queene Hecuba, and the queene Helen, and the sisters 
of Hector, and kneeled down presently before his feet, and prayed 
him with weeping tears that he would do off his harness, and come 
with them into the hall: but never would he do it for their praj^ers, 
but descended from the palace, and tooke his horse, and would 
have gone to battle. But at the request of Andromeda the king 
Priamus came running anon, and tooke him by the bridle, and said 
to him so many things of one and other, that he made him to re- 
turn, but in no wise would he be made to unarm him." — H. N. H. 
XXII— 10 M5 



Act V. Sc. iii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Tro. Away ! away ! 

Cas. Farewell : yet, soft ! Hector, I take my leave : 
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. 90 

{Exit. 
Hect. You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim: 
Go in and cheer the town : we '11 forth and fight. 
Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at 
night. 
Pri. Farewell: the gods with safety stand about 
thee! 
[Exeunt, severally Priam and Hector. Alarum. 
Tro. They are at it, hark ! Proud Diomed, believe, 
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve. 

Enter Pandarus. 

Pan. Do you hear, my lord? do you hear? 

Tro. What now? 

Pan. Here 's a letter come from yond poor girl. 

Tro. Let me read. 100 

Pan. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally 
tisick so troubles me, and the foolish for- 
tune of this girl; and what one thing, 
what another, that I shall leave you one o' 
these days : and I have a rheum in mine eyes 
too, and such an ache in my bones that, un- 
less a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to 
think on 't. What says she there? 

Tro. Words, words, mere words, no matter from 
the heart; 
The effect doth operate another way. 

[Tearing the letter. 

106. "unless a man were cursed"; i. e. unless it be the result of a 
•rorse upon rae. — C. H. H. 

146 



TEOILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. iv. 

Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change to- 
gether. 110 
My love with words and errors still she feeds, 
But edifies another with her deeds. 

[Exeunt severally. 



Scene IV 

The field between Troy and the Grecian camp. 

Alarums. Excursions. Enter Thersites. 

Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one an- 
other ; I '11 go look on. That dissembling 
abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that 
same scurvy doting foolish young knave's 
sleeve of Troy there in his helm: I would 
fain see them meet; that that same young 
Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might 
send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, 
with the sleeve, back to the dissembling lux- 
urious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O' the 10 
t'other side, the policj^ of those crafty swear- 
ing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten dry 
cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, 
Ulysses, is not proved worth a blackberry. 
The}^ set me up in policy that mongrel cur, 

112. The Folio here inserts: — 

"Pand. Why, hut heare you? 

Tbov. Hence brother lackiej ignomie and shame 

Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name." 

Cf. Sc. X.— I. G. 

1. "clapper-clawing" ; handling. — C. H. H. 

H'7 



Act V. Sc. iv. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, 
Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder 
than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to- 
day; whereupon the Grecians begin to pro- 
claim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill 20 
opinion. 

Enter Diomedes and Troilus. 

Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other. 
Tro. Fly not, for shouldst thou take the river Styx, 

I would swim after. 
Dio. Thou dost miscall retire: 

I do not fly ; but advantageous care 

Withdrew me from the odds of multitude: 

Have at thee ! 
Ther, Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now for thy 

whore, Trojan! Now the sleeve, now the 

sleeve! 

[Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. 

Enter Hector. 

Heat. What art thou, Greek ? art thou for Hector's 
match? 30 

Art thou of blood and honor? 
Ther. No, no: I am a rascal; a scurvy railing 

knave; a very filthy rogue. 

19. "proclaim barbarism"; to set up the authority of ignorance, 
and to declare that they will be governed by policy no longer. — 
H. N. H. 

25. "advantageous care"; concern to secure a favorable position 
for fighting.— C. H. H. 

31. "art thou of blood"; this is an idea taken from the ancient 
books of romantic chivalry, and even from the usage of the Poet's 
age. A person of superior birth may not be challenged by an 
148 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. v. 

Hect. I do believe thee. Live. [Exit. 

Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; 
but a plague break thy neck for frighting 
me! What's become of the wenching 
rogues? I think they have swallowed one 
another: I would laugh at that miracle: yet 
in a sort lechery eats itself. I '11 seek them. 40 

lExit. 

Scene V 

Another part of the field. 
Enter Diomedes and Servant. 

Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse ; 

Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid: 

Fellow, commend my service to her beauty ; 

Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan, 

And am her knight by proof. 
Ser. I go, my lord. [Exit. 

inferior; or, if challenged, might refuse combat. Alluding to this 
circumstance, Cleopatra says, — 

"These hands do lack nobility, that they strike 
A meaner than myself." 

And in Melvil's Memoirs: "The laird of Grange offered to fight 
Bothwell, who answered that he was neither earl nor lord, but a 
baron; and so was not his equal. The like answer made he to 
TuUibardine. Then my Lord Lindsay offered to fight him, which 
he could not well refuse; but his heart failed him, and he grew 
cold on the business." — H. N. H. 

5. "knight by proof"; Caxton's History gives the matter thus : 
"And of the partie of the Trojans came the king Ademon that 
jousted against Menelaus, and smote him, and hurt him in the face: 
and he and Troylus tooke him, and had led him away, if Diomedes 
had not come the sooner with a great companie of knights, and 
fought with Troylus at his coming, and smote him downe, and tooke 
149 



Act V. Sc. y. TROILUS AND CEESSIDA 

Enter Agamemnon. 

Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas 
Hath beat down Menon : bastard Margarelon 
Hath Doreus prisoner, 
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam, 
Upon the pashed corses of the kings 10 

Epistrophus and Cedius: Polyxenes is slain; 
Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt ; 
Patroclus ta'en or slain; and Palamedes 
Sore hurt and bruised : the dreadful sagittary 
Appals our numbers : haste we, Diomed, 
To reinforcements, or we perish all. 

Enter Nestor, 

Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles, 

And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame. 
There is a thousand Hectors in the field: 
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, 20 
And there lacks work ; anon he 's there afoot, 
And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls 
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, 
And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge. 
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath : 
Here, there and every where he leaves and takes. 
Dexterity so obeying appetite 

his horse, and sent it to Briseyda, and did cause to say to her by 
his servant, that it was Troyluses horse, her love, and that he had 
conquered him by his promise, and prayed her from thenceforth that 
she would hold him for her love." — H. N. H. 

20. "on Galathe his horse"; so in Caxton's History: "Then, when 
Hector was richly arraied, and armed with good harnesse and sure, 
he mounted upon his horse named Galathe, that was one of the most 
great and strongest horses of the world." — H. N. H. 

150 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. v. 

That what he will he does, and does so much 
That proof is call'd impossibility. 

Enter Ulysses. 

Ulyss. O, courage, courage, princes ! great Achilles 
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing venge- 
ance: 31 
Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood, 
Together with his mangled Myrmidons, 
That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, 

come to him. 
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend. 
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it, 
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day 
Mad and fantastic execution. 
Engaging and redeeming of himself. 
With such a careless force and forceless care, 
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, 41 
Bade him win all. 

Enter Ajax. 

Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus! [Ecdt. 

Dio. Aye, there, there. 

Nest. So, so, we draw together. 

Enter Achilles. 

Achil. Where is this Hector? 

Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face ; 
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry : 

44. "we draw together"; this remark seems to be made in conse- 
quence of the return of Ajax to the field; he having lately refused 
to cooperate or draw together with the Greeks. — H. N. H. 
151 



Act V. Sc. vi. .TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Hector ! where 's Hector ; I will none but Hec- 
tor. [Eoceunt. 

Scene VI 

Another part of the field. 

Enter Ajaoo. 

AjOiV, Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy 
head ! 

Enter Diomedes. 

Dio. Troilus, I say ! where 's Troilus ? 
Ajax. What wouldst thou? 

Dio. I would correct him. 

Ajax. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my 
office 
Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! what, 
Troilus! 

Enter Troilus. 

Tro. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou 

traitor. 
And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse. 
Dio. Ha, art thou there? 

Ajax. I '11 fight with him alone: stand, Diomed. 
Dio. He is my prize ; I will not look upon. 10 

Tro. Come both, you cogging Greeks ; hav^e at you 

both! [Exeunt, fighting. 

Enter Hector. 



Heat. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest 
brother ! 

152 






TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act v. Sc. vi. 

Writer Achilles. 

Achil. Now do I see thee; ha! have at thee, Hector! 

Hect. Pause, if thou wilt. 

Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan: 
Be happy that my arms are out of use : 
My rest and neghgence befriends thee now, 
But thou anon shalt hear of me again; 
Till when, go seek thy f ortime. [Eccit. 

Hect. Fare thee well: 

I would have been much more a fresher man, 20 
Had I expected thee. 

Re-enter Troilus. 

How now, my brother! 
Tro. Ajax hath ta'en ^neas: shall it be? 

No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven. 
He shall not carry him ; I '11 be ta'en too. 
Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say ! 
I reck not though I end my life to-day. [Exit. 

Enter one in sumptuous armor. 

Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly 
mark. 
No? wilt thou not? I like thy armor well; 
I '11 frush it, and unlock the rivets all, 
But I '11 be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, 
abide? 30 

Why then, fly on, I 'U hunt thee for thy hide. 

\_Ecceunt. 



153 



Act V. Sc. vii. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Scene VII 

'Another part of the field. 

Enter Achilles^ with Myrmidons. 

Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; 
Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel: 
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in 

breath : 
And when I have the bloody Hector found. 
Empale him with your weapons round about ; 
In fellest manner execute your aims. 
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye : 
It is decreed Hector the great must die. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting: then 
Thersites. 

Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. 
Now, bull! now, dog! 'loo, Paris, 'loo! now 10 
my double-henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, loo! 
The bull has the game : ware horns, ho ! 

[Exeunt Paris and Menelaus. 

Enter Margarelon. 

Mar. Turn, slave, and fight. 

Ther. What art thou? 

Mar. A bastard son of Priam's. 

Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am 

6. "aims"; so Capell; Q., F. 2, "armes"; F. 1, "arme"; Ff. 3, 4, 
"arms." — I. G. 

154 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. viii. 

a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard 
in mind, bastard in valor, in every thing il- 
legitimate. One bear will not bite another, 
and wherefore should one bastard? Take 20 
heed, the quarrel 's most ominous to us : if the 
son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts 
judgment: farewell, bastard. lEccit. 

Mar. The devil take thee, coward! [Exit. 



Scene VIII 

Another part of the field. 

Enter Hector. 

Heat. Most putrefied core, so fair without, 
Thy goodly armor thus hath cost thy life. 

23. "bastard" in ancient times, was not a disreputable appellation. 
See 1 Henry VI, Act I, sc. ii.— H. N. H. 

1. Of course, this "most putrefied core" is the "one in sumptuous 
armour," at the close of scene v. The incident was taken from 
Caxton's History: "When Achilles saw that Hector slew thus the 
nobles of Greece, and so many other that it was marvel to behold, 
he thought that if Hector were not slain the Greeks would never 
have victory. And forasmuch as he had slain many kings and 
princes, he ran upon him marvellously; but Hector cast to him a 
dart fiercely, and made him a wound in his thigh; and then Achilles 
issued out of the battle, and did bind up his wound, and took a 
great spear in purpose to slay Hector, if he might meet him. 
Among all these things Hector had taken a very noble baron of 
Greece, that was quaintly and richly armed, and, for to lead him 
out of the host at his ease, had cast his shield behind him at his 
back, and had left his breast discovered; and as he was in this 
point, and took none heed of Achilles, he came privily unto him, and 
thrust his spear within his body, and Hector fell down dead to the 
ground."— H. N. H. 



Act V. Sc. viiL TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Now is my day's work done ; I '11 take good 

breath: 
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and 
death. 
\_Puts off Ms helmet and hangs his shield behind 
him. 

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons. 

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; 

How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: 

Even with the vail and darking of the sun. 

To close the day up, Hector's life is done. 

Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek. 

Achil. Strike, fellows, strike ; this is the man I seek. 

[Hector falls. 
So, Ilion, fall thou next ! now, Troy, sink down ! 
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. 12 
On, Myrmidons ; and cry you all amain, 
'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.' 

lA retreat sounded. 
Hark ! a retire upon our Grecian part. 
Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. 
Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the 
earth. 
And stickler-like the armies separates. 
My half-supp'd sword that frankly would have 

fed. 
Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed. 

\_Sheathes his sword. 
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; 21 

Along the field I will the Trojan trail. 

[Exeunt. A retreat sounded- 
156 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Act V. Sc. ix. x. 



Scene IX 

Another part of the field. 

Enter Agamemnon^ AjacUj MenelauSj, Nestor, 

Diomedes, and the rest, marching. Shouts 

within. 

Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that? 

Nest. Peace, drums ! 

\_Within~\ 'Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain! 

Achilles!' 
Dio. The brute is. Hector 's slain, and by Achilles. 
Ajaoo. If it be so, yet bragless let it be ; 

Great Hector was a man as good as he. 
Agam. March patiently along : let one be sent 

To pray Achilles see us at our tent. 

If in his death the gods have us befriended. 

Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are 
ended. [Exeunt, marching. 10 



Scene X 

Another part of the field. 

Enter Mneas, Paris, Antenor, and Deiphohus. 

JEne. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: 
Never go home ; here starve we out the night. 

Enter Troilus, 

Tro, Hector is slain. 

157 



Act V. Sc. X. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

All. Hector! The gods forbid! 

Tro. He 's dead ; and at the murderer's horse's tail 
In beastly sort dragg'd through the shameful 

field. 
Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with 

speed ! 
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy ! 
I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy, 
And linger not our sure destructions on! 

JEne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. 10 

Tro. You understand me not that tell me so; 
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death. 
But dare all imminence that gods and men 
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone: 
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba? 
Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd. 
Go in to Troy, and say there 'Hector 's dead :' 
There is a word will Priam turn to stone, 
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives. 
Cold statues of the youth, and, in a word, 20 
Scare Troy out of itself. But march away: 
Hector is dead ; there is no more to say. 
Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, 
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains, 
JLet Titan rise as early as he dare, 
I '11 through and through you ! and, thou great- 
sized coward, 
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates : 
I '11 haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, 
That moldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. 
Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go: 

9. "linger on"; protract. — C. H. H. 
158 



TEOILUS AND CRESSIDA Act v. Sc. %. 

Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. ^1 
[Exeunt Mneas and Trojans. 

As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, 
Pandarus. 

Pan. But hear you, hear you! 

Tro. Hence, broker-lackey ! ignomy and shame 
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name ! 

[Exit. 

Pan. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! 
O world! world! world! thus is the poor 
agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how 
earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill 
requited! why should our endeavor be so 
loved and the performance so loathed? what 40 
verse for it? what instance for it? Let me 
see: 

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing, 
Till he hath lost his honey and his sting; 
And being once subdued in armed tail, 
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. 

Good traders in the flesh, set this in your 
painted cloths : 

As many as be here of Pandar's hall, 

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall; 

Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans, 50 

33. "broker-lackey" ; broker anciently signified a bawd of either sex. 
So in King John: "This bawd, this broker, this all changing word," 
— H. N. H. 

159 



Act V. Sc. X. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. 
Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade, 
Some two months hence my will shall here be 

made : 
It should be now, but that my fear is this, 
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss : 
Till then I '11 sweat and seek about for eases, 
And at that time bequeath you my diseases. 



160 



GLOSSARY 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 



A', he; I. ii. 221, 

Abject in regard, held in little 
estimation; (Q., "obiect"); III. 
iii. 128. 

Abruptiox, breaking off; III. ii. 
72. 

Adamant, the loadstone; III. ii. 
195. 

Addition, title; II. ili. 263. 

Additions, virtues, characteristic 
qualities; I. ii. gO. 

Addle, used with play on "idle"; 
I. ii. 145. 

Address, prepare; IV. iv. 148. 

Advertised, informed; II. ii. 211. 

Afeahd, afraid; IV. iv. 84. 

Affection, passion, lust; II. ii. 
177. 

Affined, related, joined by affin- 
ity; I. iii, 25. 

Affronted, encountered, match- 
ed; III. ii. 182. 

Against, just before, in expecta- 
tion of; I. ii. 190. 

Albeit, although; III. ii. 150. 

Allow, acknowledge; III. ii. 104. 

Allowance, acknowledgment; I. 
iii. 377. 

An, if, as if; "an 'twere," like, 
just as; (Qq., Ff., "and"); I. 
i. 82. 

Anchises, the father of ^neas; 
IV. i. 21. 

Antics, buffoons; V. iii. 86. 

Appear it, let it appear; III. iii. 
3. 



Appertainments, dignity apper- 
taining to us; (Q., "appertain- 
ings") ; II. iii. 92. 

Apply, explain, interpret; I. iii. 
32. 

Appointment, equipment; IV. v. 

Apprehensions, conception, per- 
ception; II. iii. 130. 

Approve, prove; III. ii. 190. 

Aquilon, the North Wind; IV. v. 
9. 

Argument, subject of a play; 
Prol. 25, 

Argus, the fabulous monster with 
a hundred eyes; I. ii. 31. 

Ariachne's, Arachne's; i. e., the 
spider's (Ff., " Ariachnes" ; Q., 
"Ariachnas" I Pope, "slight 
Arachne's" ; Capell, "is Arach- 
nes"; Steevens' conj. "Ariad- 
ne's or Arachnea's") ; V. ii. 152. 

Artist, scholar; I. iii. 24. 

As, equal to, as good as; III. ii. 
57; as if; III. iii. 167. 

Aspects, influence; I. iii. 92. 

AssiNEGO, ass; (Q., Ff., "Asini- 
co"; Singer conj. "asnico") ; II. 
i. 49. 

AssuB JUGATE, bring into subjec- 
tion, debase; II. iii. 202. 

Attach'd, "be a. with," have a 
feeling of; V. ii. 161. 

Attaint, taint, stain; I. ii. 26. 

Attest, testimony; V. ii. 122. 

, call to witness; II. ii. 132. 



XXII— 11 



161 



Glossary 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Attribute, reputation; II. iii. 

131. 
Attributive, ascribing excellent 

qualities; (Ff., "inclineable"); 

II. ii. 58. 



Barks, ships; Prol. 13. 

Battle, army; III. ii. 29. 

Beam, heavy lance; V. v. 9. 

Beastly, lilce a beast; V. x. 5. 

Beaver, here helmet; properly, 
the front of the helmet; I. iii. 
296. 

Beef-witted, with no more wit 
than an ox; (Grey conj. "half- 
witted") ; II. i. 14. 

Benumbed, deprived of sensation, 
insensible; II. ii. 179. 

Bestowing, functions; III. ii. 39. 

Better, used quibblingly = a bet- 
ter man; III. i. 13. 

Better; "were b.", had better; 
I. iii. 370. 

Bias, originally a term in the 
game of bowls; here, out of a 
straight line, awry; I. iii. 15. 

Bias cheek, "as the bowl on the 
biased side"; IV. v. 8. 

Bias-drawing, turning awry; IV. 
v. 169. 

Bi-fold, two- fold, double; (Col- 
lier MS., "by foole") ; V. ii. 
144. 

Black-a-moor, negress; I. i. 82. 

Blank of danger, unknown 
danger; blank = a charter, to 
which one sets his seal or sig- 
nature before it is filled up; 
III. iii. 231. 

Blench, start, flinch; I. i. 28. 

Blench from, fly off from, be 
inconstant to; II. ii. 68. 

Bless, preserve; II. iii. 34. 

Blood, passions, natural propen- 
sities; II. iii. 36. 



Blown up, grown up; (Capell 
conj. "grown up"); I. iii. 317. 

Bob, cheat, trick; III. i. 74. 

Bobbed, thumped; II. i. 77. 

Bode, forebode, be ominous; V. 
ii. 191. 

BoDEMENTs, prcsagcs ; V. iii. 80. 

Bolting, sifting; I. i. 18. 

Boot, something into the bar- 
gain, advantage; IV. v. 40. 

, "to b.", into the bargain; 

I. ii. 261. 

Boreas, the north wind; I. iii. 38. 

Bought and sold, made a fool 
of; II. i. 51. 

BoY-QUELLER, boy-killer; V. v. 
45. 

Brave, fine, splendid; Prol. 15. 

Brave, defying, bravado; IV. iv. 
139. 

Bravely, admirably; I. ii. 197. 

Brawn, arm; (Q., "braunes"); 
I. iii. 297. 

Breath, breathing, exercise; II. 
iii. 127. 

Breese, gadfly; (Q., "Bryze" ', F. 
1, "Brieze"; Ff. 2, 3, 4, 
"Brize") ; I. iii. 48. 

Briareus, the fabulous giant 
who was supposed to have a 
hundred hands; I. ii. 31. 

Bring; "be with you to b.", an 
idiomatic expression ="to bring 
as good as I get" (give six for 
your half-dozen) ; I. ii. 309. 

, take; IV. v. 53. 

, conduct; IV. v. 286. 

Broad, wide; (so Q. ; Ff. read 
"lotod" and "loud") ; I. iii. 27. 

, puffed with pride; I. iii. 

190. 

Broils; "b. in loud applause," 
"basks in the sunshine of ap- 
plause, even to broiling" 
(Schmidt) ; I. iii. 379. 

Broken, interrupted; IV. iv. 50. 



162 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Broken music; "some instru- 
ments, such as viols, violins, 
flutes, etc., were formerly 
made in sets of four, which 
when played together formed 
a "consort." If one or more 
instruments of one set were 
substituted for the correspond- 
ing ones of another set, the 
result was no longer a "con- 
sort," but "broken music" 
(Chapell) ; III. i. 52. 

Brooch, v. Notes; II. i. 128. 

Brotherhoods, associations, cor- 
porations; I. iii. 104. 

Brujt, rumor; V. ix. 4. 

Brushes, hurts; V. iii. 34. 

Buss, kiss; IV. v. 220. 

By God's nD=:by God's eye, an 
oath; I. ii. 228. 

Caduceus, Mercury's rod; II. iii. 
15. 

Can = can do; II. ii. 135. 

Cancer, the zodiacal sign of the 
summer solstice; II. iii. 212. 

Capable; "more c", abler; III. 
iii. 315. 

Capocchia, "a fabricated fem- 
inine form of the Italian word 
'capocchio/ which means a dolt, 
a simpleton, a fool" (Clarke) ; 
(Ff. Q., "chipochia" ; Collier 
capocchio") ; IV. ii. 34. 

Captive, conquered; V. iii. 40. 

Carry, carry ofF, bear off; V. vi. 
24. 

Catlings, strings of catgut; III. 
iii. 311. 

Center, earth; I. iii. 85. 

Chafe thee, become angry; IV. 
V. 260. 

Chance, chances it; III. i. 150. 

Changeful, inconstant; IV. iv. 



Change of, exchange for; III. 
iii. 27. 

Chapmen, buyers; IV. i. 75. 

Characterless, unrecorded; III. 
ii. 204. 

Characters, figures; I. iii. 325. 

Charge, expense; IV. i. 57. 

, "on c", on compulsion, by 

your orders; IV. iv. 135. 

Charon, the ferryman who rowed 
the souls of the departed over 
the river Styx; III. ii. 11. 

Circumstance, details of argu- 
ment; III. iii. 114. 

Clamors, noises, sounds; I. i. 95. 

Cliff, clef or key; a musical 
term; V. ii. 11. 

Clotpoles, blockheads; II. i. 130. 

Cloud; "a c. in autuirfn," a 
cloud heralding bad weather; 
I. ii. 138. 

Co-act, act, play together; V. ii. 
118. 

Cobloaf, a crusty, uneven loaf 
with a round top to it; (Ma- 
lone conj. "Coploaf"); II. i. 
41. 

Cogging, cheating, deceiving; V. 
vi. 11. 

Cognition, perception; V. ii. 63. 

Colossus- WISE, like a Colossus ; V. 
V. 9. 

Compare, comparison; III. ii. 191. 

Compassed, round; "c. window," 
bay-window; (Q., Ff., "corn- 
past") ; I. ii. 120. 

Composure, bond; (Ff., "counsel 
that") ; II. iii. 114. 

Con, learn by heart; (Q., 
"cunne") ; II. i. 18. 

Condition, on condition, even 
though; I. ii. 81. 

Conduce, is joined, brought to- 
gether; (Rowe, "commence") ; 
V. ii. 147. 



163 



Glossary 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Conjure; "I cannot c", I can- 
not raise up spirits; V. ii. 125. 

CoxsTRiNGED, Contracted, cramp- 
ed; V. ii. 173. 

Convince, convict, prove guilty; 
II, ii. 130. 

Convive we, we will feast; IV. 
v. 272. 

Convoy, conveyance; I. i. 110. 

Coped, encountered; I. ii. 35. 

Core, ulcer; II. i. 7. 

Cormorant, ravenous; (F. 1, 
"cormorant") ; II. ii. 6. 

Corse, corpse, body; II. iii. 38. 

Counters, round pieces of metal 
used in counting; II. ii. 28. 

Cousin, niece; (a title given to 
any kinsman and kinswoman); 
I. ii.' 45. 

Creep in, steal secretly into; III. 
iii. 134. 

Critics, censurers, carpers; V. ii. 
131. 

Crownets, coronets; Prol. 6. 

Crushed into, pressed into, 
mixed with; (Warburton, 
"crusted into"); I. ii. 24. 

Cunning, powerful; III. ii. 148. 

Curious, causing care; III. ii. 72. 

Daphne, the nymph beloved by 

Apollo, who fleeing from his 

pursuit was changed into a 

laurel tree; I. i. 104. 
Darking, darkening, growing 

dark; V. viii. 7. 
Date, dates were commonly used 

in pastry in Shakespeare's 

time; I, ii. 282. 
Daws, jackdaws; I. ii. 267. 
Days, "a whole week by d.", 

every day for a whole week; 

IV. 1. 9. 
Dear, earnest; V. iii. 9. 
Death-tokens, "the spots which 

indicate the approaching death 



of persons infected with the 

plague"; II. iii. 193. 
Debonair, gentle, meek; I. iii. 

235. 
Deceptious, delusive; V. ii. 123. 
Decline, run through in detail; 

II. iii. 59. 

, fall; IV. V. 189. 

Declined, fallen; IV. v. 189. 
Deem, thought; IV. iv. 61. 
Deject, dejected; II. ii. 50. 
Depravation, detraction; V. ii. 

132. 
Deputation, power deputed to ! 

thee; I. iii. 152. | 

Deracinate, uproot; I. iii. 99. j 

Derive, deduce logically; II. iii. ' 

70. 1 

Destiny, fate; ["laboring for 

destiny"z=" the vicegerent of 

Fate" (Malone)]; IV. v. 184. 
Dexter, right; IV. v. 128. 
Diana's waiting-women, i. e. the 

stars; V. ii. 91. 
Diminutives, insignificant things; 

V. i. 39. 
Directive, able to be directed; 

I. iii. 356. 
Discourse, reasoning; V. ii. 142. 
Discover'd, revealed, disclosed; I. 

iii. 138. 
Discoveries, (.') monstrosities 

( H a n m e r, "debaucheries" ; 

Singer (Ed. 2), "discoverers"; 

Collier MS. " discolorers" ) ; V. 

i. 28. 
Dismes, tenths; II. ii. 19. 
Disorb'd, unsphered; (Q., "dis- 

orbd) ; II. ii. 46. 
Dispose, disposition; II. iii. 180. 
Disposer, one who can bring an- 
other to do anything (or per- 
haps = entertainer) ; III. i. 94. 
DisTAiNS, stains, taints; I. iii. 

241. 
Distaste, dislike; II. ii. 66. 



164 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Distaste, make distasteful; II. ii. 
123. 

Distasted, made distasteful; IV. 
iv. 50. 

Distraction, despair, madness ; 
V. ii. 41. 

Dividable, dividend; I. iii. 105. 

DouBLE-HENjfED, "perhaps, with 
a double hen, i. e. with a fe- 
male married to two cocks, and 
thus false to both" (Schmidt) ; 
V. vii. 11. 

Draught-oxek, oxen used to 
draw a cart or plow; (Ff., 
"draft-oxen"); II. i. 118. 

Drave, urged on; III. iii. 190. 

Dress'd, addressed, prepared; I. 
iii. 166. 

Dwells, depends on; I. iii. 336. 

Edge, sword; V. v. 24. 

Eld, old age; (Q., "elders"; Ff. 

"old") ; II. ii. 104. 
Elements; "the two moist e.", 

i. e., water and air; I. iii. 41. 
Embracement, embracing; IV. v. 

148. 
Embrasures, embraces; IV. iv. 

39. 
Emulation, envy, jealousy; II. 

ii. 212. 
Emulous, envious; (Ff. 1, 3, 

"emulations" i Ff. 3, 4, emula- 

tious") ; II. iii. 85. 
Encounterers, people who meet 

others half-way; IV. v. 58. 
End, kill, destroy; I. ii. 85. 
Engine, instrument; II. iii. 149. 
Enginer, pioneer; II. iii. 9. 
Enter, to enter; II. iii. 203. 
Entreat, treat; IV. iv. 115. 

, invite; IV. v. 274. 

Envy, malice; III. ii. 110. 
Errant, deviating; I. iii. 9. 
Errors, deceptions; V. iii. 111. 



Exact; "grace exact"; v. note; 

I. iii. 180. 
Exasperate = exasperated ; V. i. 

34. 
Excitements, incitements; I. iii. 

182. 
Exclaim, outcry; V. iii. 91. 
Execute, practise, use; V. vii. 6. 
Execution, working; I. iii. 210. 
Expect, expectation; I. iii. 70. 
ExPECTANCE,= expectation; IV. 

v. 146. 
Expressure, expression; III. iii. 

204. 
Extremes, extremity; IV. ii. 111. 
Extremity; "the edge of all e.", 

to the uttermost; IV. v. 68. 

Faction, union; II. iii. 113. 

, take sides in the quarrel; 

•III. iii. 190. 

Fail, let fail; V. i. 48. 

Fair, well; IV. iv. 115. 

Fall, let fall; I. iii. 379. 

Fancy, love; IV. iv. 27. 

, love (verb) ; V. ii. 165. 

Fat, nourish; II. ii. 48. 

Favor, countenance, face; I. ii. 
101. 

Fee farm, "of a duration that 
has no bounds; a fee-farm be- 
ing a grant of lands in fee, 
that is for ever, reserving a 
certain rent" (Malone) ; III. 
ii. 54. 

Fell, fierce, savage; IV. v. 269. 

Fills, shafts of a carriage; III. 
ii. 48. 

Finch-egg, a term of contempt; 
V. i. 41. 

Fitchew, polecat; V. i. 68. 

Fits, the divisions of a song or 
tune; (perhaps ="when the 
humor takes you") ; III. i. 61. 

Five-finger-tied, tied with all 



J 6^ 



Glossary 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



the fingers of the hand; V. ii. 

157. 
Fixture, stability; I. iii, 101. 
Flat tamed, stale, insipid; IV. i. 

62. 
Fled, have fled; (Pope, "get"; 

Capell, "flee"; Keightley conj. 

"have fled") ; I. iii. 51, 
Flexure, bending; (Ff., 

"flight"); II. iii. 121. 
Flood, ocean, sea; I. i. 108. 
, "in f.", in full flow; I. iii. 

300. 
Flow to, hasten towards; (John- 
son conj. "show too"); V. ii. 

41. 
Fonder, more foolish; I. i. 10. 
For, against; I. ii. 293. 

, because; V. iii. 21. 

Force, power, might; IV. i. 18. 

, stuff; II. iii. 239. 

Forced, stuffed; V. i. 65. 
Forthright, straight path; III. 

iii. 158. 
Fraction, discord; II. iii. 112. 
Fraughtage, freight, cargo ; 

Frol. 13. 
Frayed avith, frightened by; (Q., 

Ff., "fraid"); III. ii. 34. 
F R E Ej generous, noble-minded ; 

IV. V. 139. 
Friend, befriend, favor; L ii. 85. 
Frighting, frightening; V. iv. 36. 
Frusii, bruise, batter; V. vi. 29. 
Fulfilling, filling full; Prol. 18. 
Full; "in the f.", in full com- 
pany, all together; IV. v. 272, 
Fusty, mouldy; I. iii. 161. 

Gaging, engaging, binding; V. i. 

46. 
Gait, walk; IV. v. 14. 
Gallantry, gallants; III. i. 148. 
Gear, matter, affair; I. i. 6. 
Generals, collective qualities; I. 

Ui. 180. 



Genius, the spirit supposed to 
direct the actions of man; IV. 
iv. 52. 

Glozed, used mere words; II. ii. 
165. 

GoD-A-MERCY, uscd in the sense of 
Gramercy, many thanks; V. iv. 
35. 

GoosE OF Winchester, strumpet; 
(the houses of ill-fame in Lon- 
don were under the jurisdic- 
tion of the Bishop of Winches- 
ter) ; V. X. 55. 

Gored, hurt, wounded; III. iii. 
228. 

Gorget, throat armor; I. iii. 174, 

Gracious, holy; II. ii. 125. 

Grated, ground; III. ii. 204. 

Great morning, broad day; IV. 
iii. 1. 

Greekish, Greek; III. iii. 211. 

Greekish, "all the G. ears," i. e., 
the. ears of aU the Greeks; I, 
iii. 67. 

Grossness, bulk; I, iii. 325. 



Hair, grain; "against the h."= 
against the grain; I. ii. 28. 

Hale, drag; IV, v. 6. 

Hamstring, tendon of the knee- 
joint; I. iii. 154. 

Hardiment, hardihood; IV. v, 28. 

Hare, timid; (Ff., "hard"); II. 
ii. 48. 

Hatch'd, engraved; "h. in silver," 
probably = silver-haired ; I. iii. 
65. 

Hateful, full of hate; IV. i. 33. 

Have at thee, be warned; V. iv. 
27. 

Having, possessions, endow- 
ments; III. iii. 97. 

Heart; "from h. of very h.", 
from my heart's core; IV. v. 
171. 



m 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Heaving, swelling, resentful; II. 

ii. 196. 
Hedge aside, creep along by the 

hedge; (Q., "turne"; Collier, 

"edge") ; III. iii. 158. 
Him, himself; I. ii. 303. 
His, its; I. iii. 210. 
His,='s; "Mars his idiot"= 

Mars's idiot; II. i. 58. 
Hold, regard as, look upon as; 

II. iii.. 205. 
HoLDiKG, keeping; (Q., "keep- 
ing"); II. ii. 52. 
Honesty, chastity; I. ii. 288. 
Hot, rash; V. iii. 16. 
However, although; I. iii. 322. 
Hoy-day, an exclamation; V. i. 

74. 
Hulks, large, heavy ships; (Ff., 

"bulkes") ; II. iii. 282. 
Humorous, capricious; II. iii. 144. 
Humors, caprices; I. ii. 23. 
Hung, made linger; IV. v. 188. 
HuRRiCANO, water-spout; V. ii. 

172. 
Hurt, do harm; V. iii. 20. 
Husbandry, thrift; I. ii. 7. 
Hyperion, the sun-god, Phoebus 

Apollo; II. iii. 213. 



Imposition, injunction, the task 

imposed; III. ii. 90. 
Impressure, impression; IV. v. 

131. 
Imputation, reputation; I. iii. 

339. 
In, in the estimation of ; II. ii. 56. 
, within, internally, mentally; 

III. iii. 97. 
Inches; "even to his i.", most 

thoroughly, exactly; IV. v. 

111. 
Includes, ends, comes to an 

end; (Q., "include") ; I. iii. 119. 
Indrench'd, immersed; (Rowe, 

" intrench' d") ; I. i. 52. 
Infect, infected; I. iii. 187. 
Infinite, infinity, immense great- 
ness; II. ii. 29. 
Inseparate, indivisible; V. ii. 

148. 
Insisture, persistency, constancy; 

I. iii. 87. 
Instance, proof; V. ii. 153, 155. 
Instant; "take the i. way," serve 

the present time; III. iii. 153. 

Jove's accord, i. e. with Jove's 
accord, assent; I. iii. 238. 



Idle, used with play on "addle"; 
I. ii. 146. 

, useless; V. i. 35. 

Ignomy, ignominy; (Q., "igno- 
myny") ; V. x. 33. 

Ilion, Troy; (Q., Ff. 1, 2, "II- 
lion"); II. ii. 109. 

Immaterial, worthless; V. i. 35. 

Immures, walls ; (F. 1, 
"emures") ; Prol. 8. 

Impair, unsuitable, inappro- 
priate; (Q., "impare"; Capell, 
"impar"; Johnson conj. "im- 
pure"); IV. V. 103. 

Imperious, imperial; IV. v. 172. 



Keep, lodge, dwell; IV. v. 278. 
Ken, know; IV. v. 14. 

Last, at last, in the end ; I. iii. 124. 

Lavolt, i. e. the lavota, a lively 
dance; IV. iv. 88. 

Lazars, lepers; II. iii. 39. 

Learn, teach, tell; II. i. 22. 

Leather jerkin, a short leath- 
ern coat; III. iii. 269. 

Leavening, the admixing of sour 
dough; I. i. 20, 

Leave to see, give up seeing; V. 
i. 106. 

Let blood, bleed; II. iii. 229. 



167 



Glossary 



Libya; "the banks of L.", the Af- 
rican desert; I. iii. 328. 

Lie, you lie; III. iii. 162. 

Lief, willingly; I. ii. 113. 

Lifter, cheat, thief; (used quib- 
blingly) ; I. ii. 128. 

Light, quickly; (Q., F. 1, "har- 
nest lyte" ; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "harnest 
light"; Theobald, "harness- 
dight") ; I. ii. 8. 

Like, likely; III. iii. 42. 

Like as, as if; I. ii. 7. 

Likes ^ot you, does not please; 
(Ff., "likes not me") ; V. ii. 
103. 

LlME-lCILNS l' THE PALM, i. 6. 

gouty lumps (chalk-stones) in 

the hand; V. i. 25. 
Look upon, be a spectator; V. vi. 

10. 
Lover; "your 1.", one who loves 

you; III. iii. 214. 
LuNES, mad freaks; (Ff., "lines"; 

Q., "course, and time") ; II. iii. 

145. 
Lust, pleasure; IV. iv. 134. 
LusTiHOOD, high spirits; II. ii. 50. 
Luxurious, lustful; V. iv. 9. 
Luxury, lust; V. ii. 55. 

Maculation, stain; IV. iv. 66. 

Maiden battle, unbloody com- 
bat; IV. V. 87. 

Mail, coat of mail, armor; III. 
iii. 152. 

Main, general; I. iii. 373. 

, full force; II. iii. 278. 

Manage, direction, administra- 
tion; III. iii. 25. 

Mark, attend, listen to; V. vii. 2. 

Mars his helm. Mars' helmet; 
(his = possessive) ; IV. v. 255. 

Marvelous = marvelously, 
(Pope's unnecessary emenda- 
tion; Q., F. 1, "maruel's"; Ff. 
2, 3, "marvel's" ) ; abbreviated 



form of "marvelously"; I. ii. 
150. 

Mastic, v. note; I. iii. 73. 

Match, i. e. "I'll lay my .ife"; 
IV. V. 37. 

Matter, business; IV. ii. 65. 

May, can; V. ii. 161. 

Means not,=: means not to be; 
I. iii. 288. 

Medicinable, medicinal; (Q., Ff., 
"med'cinahle") ; I. iii. 91. 

Mends; "she ha« the mends in 
her own hands"; probably a 
proverbial expression ^"s h e 
must make the best of it"; I. 
i. 69. 

Mere, absolute; I. iii. 111. 

Merry Greek, boon-companion ; 
"The Greeks were proverbially 
spoken of by the Romans as 
fond of good living and free 
potations" (Nares) ; I. ii, 118. 

MiLL-STONEs; "to wccp miU- 
stones" was a proverbial ex- 
pression which meant "to re- 
main hard and unfeeling as a 
stone",=:"not to weep at all"; 
I. ii. 157. 

MiLo, the famous Greek athlete, 
who was said to be able to 
carry a bull; II. iii. 263. 

MiRABLE = admirable, worthy of 
admiration; IV. v. 142. 

Miscarrying, being defeated, 
killed; I. iii. 351. 

Misprizing, undervaluing; IV. v. 
74. 

Moiety, part; II. ii. 107. 

Moist, wet, damp; I. iii. 41. 

Monstruosity, unnaturalness ; 

III. ii. 92. 
Monumental, memorial; III. iii. 

153. 
Moral, meaning; IV. iv. 109. 
Motive, instrument, moving limb; 

IV. V. 57. 



168 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



MuLTiPOTEXT, almighty; IV. v. 
129. 

Myrmidon; "the great m.", i. e. 
Achilles, the chief of the myr- 
midon's; I. iii. 378. 

Nail, finger-nail; IV. v. 46. 

Neglection, neglect; I. iii. 127. 

Nice, accurate; IV. v. 250. 

Nod; "to give the nod" was a 
term in the game of cards 
called Noddy; the words 
meant also "a silly fellow, a 
fool"; I. ii. 212. 

Noise, rumor; I. ii. 12. 

NoTHixG, nothing is; I. iii. 239. 

Oblique, (?) indirect; (Hanmer 
"antique"; Warburton, "obelis- 
que") ; V. i. 61. 

Odd; "to be o.", to be at odds; 

IV. V. 265. 

Oddly, unequally; I. iii. 339. 

O'eu-eaten, "eaten and begnawn 
on all sides"; V. ii. 160. 

O'erfalled, inflamed; V. iii. 55. 

O'er- WRESTED, strained; (Pope's 
reading; Q., Ff. 1, 2, 3, "ore- 
rested"; F. 4, "o're-rested"; 
Delius' conj. "o'er-jested") ; I. 
iii. 157. 

Of, by; I. i. 71; II. iii. 205. 

, on; III. iii. 267. 

Ox, of; I. i. 71; III. iii. 311. 

^, with, by; II. ii. 143. 

^,in; III. ii. 29. 

, "crying on," crying out on; 

V. V. 35. 

One ; " 'tis all one," it is all the 

same; I. i. 82. 
Opes, opens; I. iii. 73. 
Opinion, reputation; I. iii. 336; 

I. iii. 373. 
, self-conceit, arrogance; III. 

iii. 268. 
Oppugnancy, opposition; I. iii. 

111. 



Orchard, garden; III. ii. 17. 

Orgulous, proud, haughty; Prol. 
2. 

Orifex, orifice, aperture; \. ii. 
151. 

Orts, remnants; V. ii. 158. 

OvERBULK, overtower; I. iii. 320. 

Owes, owns; III. iii. 99. 

Oyes, hear ye!; attend! the 
usual introduction to a proc- 
lamation; IV. V. 143. 



Pace, step, degree; I, iii. 132. 
Pageant, theatrical exhibition; 

III. ii. 84. 

Pageants, mimics; I. iii. 151. 
Painted cloths, hangings for 

walls; V. X. 47. 
Palating, perceiving by taste; 

IV. i. 59. 

Palter, trifle, shuffle; II. iii. 249, 

Paradoxes, absurdities; (Johnson 
conj. "parodies") ; I. iii. 184. 

Parallels, i. e. parallel lines; I. 
iii. 168. 

Pard, leopard; III. ii. 210. 

Part, party, side; I. iii. 352. 

Parted; "how dearly ever p.", 
however richly endowed by na- 
ture; III. iii. 96. 

Partial, to which they are in- 
clined; II. ii. 178. 

Particular; "toucheth my p.", I 
am personally concerned; II. 
ii. 9. 

Particular, personal, with play 
upon general; IV. v. 20. 

Parts, gifts, endowments. III. 
iii. 117. 

Parts of nature, natural gifts; 
II, iii. 258. 

Party, side; II. ii. 156. 

Pash, strike; (Q. "push") ; II. 
iii. 219. 

Pashed, struck down; V. v. 10. 



169 



Glossary 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Pass, experience, suffer; (Collier 

MS. "poise"); II. ii. 139. 
Passed,=: surpassed, beggars de- 
scription; I. ii. 181. 

, used quibblingly; I. ii. 182. 

Past pkoportion^, immensity; II. 

ii. 29. 
Patchery, gross and bungling 

hypocrisy; II. iii. 82. 
Peace, be still, be silent; I. i. 95. 
Peevish, foolish; V. iii. 16. 
Peltixg, paltry; IV. v. 267. 
Perdition, destruction; V. ii. 145. 
Perforce, of necessity; I. iii. 123. 
Performastce, carrying out; II. 

ii. 198. 
Per se, by himself, pre-eminent; 

I. ii. 15. 
Perseus' horse, Pegasus, the 
winged horse ridden by Per- 
seus; I. iii. 42. 
Persistive, patient, persevering; 

I. iii. 21. 
Person, personal appearance ; 

IV. iv. 81. 
Pertly, saucily; IV. v. 219. 
Pheeze, make to hurry, drive, 

beat; II. iii. 221. 
PiA mater, brain; II. i. 78. 
Piece, cask of wine; IV. i. 62. 
Pight, pitched; V. x. 24. 
Placket, petticoat, woman; II. 

iii. 24. 
Plague; "the p. of Greece," "al- 
luding perhaps to the plague 
sent by Apollo on the Grecian 
army" (Johnson) ; II. i. 13. 
Plaguy, pestilently; (used with 
play upon the word "death- 
tokens") ; II. iii. 193. 
Plantage, anything planted; 
("plants were supposed to im- 
prove as the moon increases") 
(Nares) ; III. ii. 193. 
Poised, weighed, balanced; I. iii. 
339. 



Politic regard, a look full of 

meaning; perhaps, shrewd, or 

sly; III. iii. 256. 
Porpentine, porcupine; II. i. 27. 
Port, gate; IV. iv. 113. ' 
Possess, put you in possession, 

inform; IV. iv. 114. 
Possession; "her p.", possession 

of her; II. ii. 152. 
Power, armed force; I. iii. 139. 
Pregnant, ready; IV. iv. 90. 
Prenominate, foretell; IV. v. 

250. 
Presented, represented, depicted; 

III., ii. 84. 
Presently, immediately; II. iii. 

154. 
Pricks, points; I. iii. 343. 
Primogenitive, right of primo- 
geniture; (Q., "primocfenitie" ; 

Rowe, "primogeniture") ; I. iii. 

106. 
Private soul, personal opinion; 

IV. V. 111. 

Prodigious, portentous; A^ i. 104. 
Proof, the thing which is proved ; 

V. V. 29. 

Proof of more strength, strong- 
er proof; V. ii. 113. 

Propend, incline; II. ii. 190. 

Propension, inclination; II. ii. 
133. 

Proper, handsome, comely; I. ii. 
208. 

■ , own; II. ii. 89. 

Propugnation, means of combat, 
defense; II. ii. 136. 

Protractive, prolonged; I. iii. 20. 

Prove = prove ourselves; III. ii. 
104. 

Pun, pound, dash to pieces; II. i. 
42. 

PuTTOCK. kite; V. i. 69. 



Quality, cause, reason; IV. i. 44. 



170 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Quality, "full of q.", highly ac- 
complished; IV. iv. 78. 

Question, conversation, inter- 
course; IV. i. 11. 

Raxk, rankly; I. iii. 196. 
Raxsack'd, stolen, carried off; 

II. ii. 150. 
Rape, carrying off; II. ii. 148. 
Rash, urgent, hasty; (Rowe, 

"harsh"); IV. ii. Q5. 
Reck not, care not; V. vi. 26. 
Recordation, remembrance; "to 

make a r. to my soul," i. e. to 

recall to mind; V. ii. 116. 
Recourse, frequent flowing; V. 

iii. 55. 
Rein ; "in such a r.", bridles up ; 

I. iii. 189. 
Rejoindure, joining again; IV. 

iv. 38. 
Relation, report, narration; III. 

iii. 201. 
Reproof, confutation, refutation; 

I. iii. 33. 

Repured, refined, purified; (Ff., 

"reputed"); III. ii. 23. 
Respect, deliberation, reflection; 

II. ii. 49. 

Respect, i. e. the respect due to 
thee; V. iii. 73. 

Retire, retreat; V. iii. 53; V. iv. 
24. 

Retort, throw back; III. iii. 101. 

Revolt, rebellion; V. ii. 146. 

, rebel; V. ii. 144. 

Rheum, cold, watering; V. iii. 
105. 

Ribald, noisy; (Ingleby conj. 
"rabble") ; IV. ii. 9. 

Rich; "the r. shall have more," 
probably alluding to the Scrip- 
tural phrase, "To him that hath 
shall be given"; I. ii. 214. 

Right, exactly; I. iii. 170. 

Rive, be split; I. i. 35. 



RoisTiNG, roistering; II. ii. 208. 

Roundly, plainly; III. ii. 170. 

Rub on, and kiss the mistress, 
"The allusion is to bowling. 
AVhat we now call the Jack 
seems, in Shakespeare's time, 
to have been termed the mis- 
tress. A bowl that kissed the 
Jack or mistress is in the most 
advantageous position. Bub 
on is a term at the same 
game" ( M alone ) ; III. ii. 53. 

Ruin, overthrow, fall; V. iii. 58. 

Ruth, pity; V. iii. 48. 

Ruthful, piteous; V. iii. 48. 

Sacred, consecrated (an appro- 
priate epithet of royalty) ; IV. 
V. 134. 

Sagittary, Centaur; V. v. 14. 

Salt, bitter; I. iii. 371. 

Sans, without; I. iii. 94. 

Savage strangeness, unpolished, 
rude reserve; II. iii. 141. 

ScAFFOLDAGE, the woodwork of 
the stage; (Ff, 1, 2, 3, "Scaf- 
folage" Q., "scoafollage") ; I. 
iii. 156. 

Scaled, having scales; V. v. 22. 

Scantling, small portion; I. iii. 
341. 

Scar, wound; I, i. 117. 

Scorn, laugh to scorn, make a 
mock of; I. i. 117. 

Sculls, shoals ; ( Ff ., "sculs" ; 
Pope, "shoals"; Anon. conj. 
"schools") ; V. V. 22. 

Sea3I, lard; II. iii. 201. 

Secure, over-confident; II. ii. 15. 

Securely, carelessly, confidently; 
IV. v. 73. 

See = see each other; IV. iv. 59. 

Seeming, show; I. iii. 157. 

Seethes, is urgent, in hot haste; 
III. i. 43. 

Seld, seldom; IV. v. 150. 



171 



Glossary 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



SELF-ArFECTED, self-loving; II. iii. 

255. 
Self-breath, his own words; II. 

iii. 188. 
Sennet, a set of notes on the 

cornet or trumpet; I. iii. Stage 

Direc. 
Sequestering, separating, putting 

aside; III. iii. 8. 
Serpigo, eruption on the skin, 

leprosy; II. iii. 86. 
Set to, oppose to; II. i. 96. 
Severally, separately; IV. v. 

274. 
Severals, individual qualities; I. 

iii. 180. 
'srooT, a corruption of Ood's 

foot; II. iii. 6. 
Shame, disgrace; V. iii. 73. 
She, woman; I. ii. 318-320. 
Shent, put to shame, reviled; II. 

iii. 91. 
Shipmen, seamen, sailors; V. ii. 

172. 
Shoeing-horn, "the emblem of 

one who is a subservient tool 

to the caprices of another"; 

V. i. 62. 
Short-armed, not reaching far; 

(Dyce conj. "short-aimed")', 

II. iii. 17. 
Should, would; I. iii. 112, 114, 

115, 116, 118. 
Shrewd, cunning, keen; I. ii. 205. 
Shrewdly, quite, badly; III. iii. 

228. 
Shrills forth, utters loudly; V. 

iii. 84. 
Sick, envious; I. iii. 133. 
Sieve, wicker basket, voider; (Q., 

"sine"', F. 1, "same"; Ff. 2, 3, 

4, "place"; Delius conj. "sink"; 

Anon. conj. "safe"); II. ii. 71. 
Sinister, left; IV. v. 128. 
SiTH, since; I. iii. 13. 
Skilless, ignorant; I. i. 1. 12. 



Sleave silk, soft floss silk used 
for weaving; V. i. 35. 

Sleeveless, bootless; V. iv. 9. 

Sluttish, unchaste; (Collier 
conj. "skittish"); IV. v. 62. 

Smile at, mock at, laugh de- 
risively at; (Hanmer, "smite 
all Troy"; Warburton, "smite 
at Troy"; etc.); V. x. 7. 

So, in such a way; under such 
conditions; II. ii. 145. 

Soilure, stain; (Q., "soyle") ; IV. 
i. 56. 

Sometime = sometimes ; I. iii. 
151. 

Sort, lot; I. iii. 376. 

, manner; V. x. 5. 

Sorts, befits, is fitting; I. i. 112. 

Specialty; "the s. of rule," i. e. 
"the particular rights of su- 
preme authority" (Johnson) ; 
(Ff. 3, 4, "speciality"); I. iii. 
78. 

Speculation, the power of see- 
ing; III. iii. 109. 

Spend his mouth, bark; V. i. 
101. 

Sperr, shut, bar; (Theobald's 
emendation of Ff. 1, 2, 
"Stirre"; Collier MS. "Sparre"; 
Capell, "Sperrs") ; Prol. 19. 

Sphered, placed in a sphere; I. 
iii. 90. 

, rounded, swelled; IV. v. 8. 

Spirits (monosyllabic) ; Prol. 20. 

Spleen, fit of laughter; I. iii. 178. 

; "the weakest s.",=:"the 

dullest and coldest heart"; II. 
ii. 128. 

Spleens, impulses, caprices; II. 
ii. 196. 

Splinter, splintering, breaking; 
I. iii. 283. 

Spoils, prey; IV. v. 62. 

Spritely, spirited; II. ii. 190. 

Square, judge; V. ii. 132. 
72 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Stale, vapid, used up; (Q., 

"pale") ; II. ii. 79. 
, make common, vulgarize; 

II. iii. 207, 
Starts, startles; V. ii. 101. 
State; "this noble s.", stately, 

noble train; II. iii. 124. 
Stickler-like, like an umpire in 

a combat; V. viii. 18. 
Still, continually, always; IV. 

v. 195. 
Stithied, forged; IV. v. 255. 
Stomach, inclination (with a 

quibble on other sense = 

courage) ; IV. v. 264. 

, courage; II. i. 139. 

Straight, straightway, imme- 
diately; III. ii. 18. 
Strain, difficulty, doubt ; 

(Keightley conj. "doubt") \ I. 

iii. 326. 

, impulse; II. ii. 154. 

Strange, reserved; II. iii. 255. 
Strawy, resembling straw; (Ff., 

"straying") ; V. v. 24. 
Stretch'd, affected, exaggerated; 

I. iii. 156. 
Stygian banks, banks of the 

river Styx, the river of the 

infernal regions over which 

Charon ferried the souls of the 

dead; III. ii. 10. 
Subduements, victories; IV. v. 

187. 
Subscribes, submits, yields; IV. 

V. 105. 
Substance, wealth; I. iii. 324. 
Success, result, issue; I. iii. 340. 
Sufferance, suffering; I. i. 28. 
Suffocate = suffocated; I. iii. 

125. 
Sum, count up; II. ii. 28. 
Sunburnt, tanned by the sun, 

hence plain, not fair; I. iii. 



Suppose, supposition; I. iii. 11. 



Sure, surely; V. ii. 126. 
Swath, grass cut by the scythe; 

V. V. 25. 
SwouNDiNG, swooning; (Q., Ff,, 

"Sounding" ; Pope, "Siooon- 

ing") ; III. ii. 24. 



Tables, tablets; IV. v. 60. 

Tabourines, drums; IV. v. 275. 

Tarre on, incite, urge on; I, iii. 
392. 

Tender objects, tender feeling; 
IV. V. 106. 

Tent, probe for searching a 
wound; II. ii. 16. 

Tercel, male hawk; III. ii, 57. 

Tetchy, touchy, peevish; (Q,, 
Ff., "teachy") ; I, i, 102, 

That, that person; II, iii. 205. 

Thetis, a sea-goddess, mother of 
Achilles; "confounded with 
Tethys, the wife of Oceanus, 
and used for the sea, the 
ocean" (Schmidt) ; I. iii. 39. 

Thicker, quicker; III, ii. 38. 

This = this way, thus ; I. ii. 12. 

Through warm, thoroughly 
warmed; II. iii. 238. 

Throw my glove, challenge; IV. 
iv. 65. 

Thwart, athwart, crosswise; I. 
iii. 15. 

Tick, an insect; III. iii. 320. 

Tickle it, make him pay; V, ii. 
177. 

Ticklish, wanton (Ff., "tick- 
ling"); IV. v. 61. 

Tide, right time; V. i. 92. '- 

Titan, the god of the sun; V. x. 
25. 

Tithe, tenth; II. ii. 19. 

To, in addition to; I. i, 7. 

, compared to; I. iii, 344. 

, set to, onward; II. i, 21. 

Toast, a dainty morsel; (Beckett 



173 



Glossary 



TROILtrS AND CRESSIDA 



conj. "tot"; Halliwell conj. 
"boast") ; I. iii. 45. 

Topless, immeasurably high, su- 
preme, (Warburton, "stop- 
less") ; I. iii. 152. 

ToRTivE, distorted; I. iii. 9. 

Traded, practised, professional; 
II. ii. 64. 

Train, entice, draw; V. iii. 4. 

Transportance, transport; III. 
ii. 12. 

Troy walls, the walls of Troy; 
I. iii. 12. 

Trtjmp, trumpet; III. iii. 210. 

Trumpet, trumpeter; I. iii. 256. 

Turtle, turtle-dove; III. ii. 194. 

'TwiXT, between; II. ii. 64. 

TypHON = Typhorus, a fabulous 
giant, who attempted to de- 
throne Jove, but was defeated 
and imprisoned under Etna; 
I. iii, 160. 

Unarm'd, when unarmed; I. iii. 
235. 

Uncomprehensive, incomprehen- 
sible, mysterious; III. iii. 198. 

Undergo, undertake; III. ii. 91. 

Ustder-hokest, "too little honor- 
able"; II. iii. 139. 

Underwrite, submit to; II. iii. 
137. 

Ungracious, hateful; I. i. 95. 

Unity; "if there be rule in u. 
itself," i. e. "If there be cer- 
tainty in unity, if there be a 
rule that one is one" (John- 
son) ; V. ii. 141. 

Unknown; "u. Ajax," i. e. "hav- 
ing abilities which were never 
brought into view or use" 
(Johnson) ; III. iii. 125. 

Unmingled (quadrisyllable) ; I. 
iii. 30. 

Unplausive, displeased; (Q., 
"unpaulsive") ; III. iii. 43. 



Unrespective, used at random; 

II. ii. 71. 
Unsquared, not shaped or 

adapted to the purpose; (Q., 

"unsquare") ; I. iii. 159. 
Untraded, unhackneyed; IV. v. 

178. 
Unwholesome, un-appetizing; 

II. iii. 135. 

Usage, treatment; IV. iv. 121. 
Use, utility; "dear in use"=very 

useful; III. iii. 128. 
Use to, make a practice; II. i. 53. 

Vail, setting; V. viii. 7. 

Valiantly, bravely, finely; (used 
ironically) ; I. ii. 136. 

Vantbrace, armor for the arm; 
(Q., "vambrace") ; I. iii. 297. 

Varlet, servant to a knight; I. 
i. 1. 

, (?)= harlot; (perhaps the 

old spellings show a blending 
of (i.) varlet and (ii.) harlot; 
Q., Ff. 1, 2, 3, "varloi"; Thirl- 
by conj. "harlot"); V. i. 18. 

Vassalage, vassals; III. ii. 40. 

Vaunt, first beginning; Prol. 27. 

Venomous, malignant; IV. ii. 12. 

Vents, outlets; V. iii. 82. 

Very, mere; III. iii. 126. 

Villain, a term of endearment; 

III. ii. 35. 

Vindicative, vindictive; IV. v. 

107. 
Vinewed'st, most mouldy; (Q., 

"vnsalted"; Ff., "whined' st" ; 

Theobald, "unwinnow'd'st" ; 

etc.) ; II. i. 15. 
VioLENTETH, is violcnt, doth 

rage; IV. iv. 4. 
VizARDED, covered with a mask 

or OTZor:= masked; I. iii. 83. 
Voices, applause, applauding 

voices; I. iii. 382. 
Voluntary = voluntarily; II. l 

105, 107, 108. 



174 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 



Glossary 



Waftage, passage; III. ii. 11. 

Wails, bewails; IV. v. 289. 

Wallet, knapsack; III. iii. 145. 

Ward, guard; (a term in fenc- 
ing) ; "at what w.", in what 
posture of defense; I. ii. 285. 

Ware, aware; IV. ii. 59. 

Watched, a term in falconry; 
hawks were kept from sleep- 
ing = watched, to tame them; 
III. ii. 46. 

Waterflies, used contemptuous- 
ly, the emblem of vanity; V. i. 
38. 

Watery, watering, desiring; III. 
ii. 22. 

Weather; "keeps the w.", has 
the advantage ;= weather-gage ; 
(a nautical term) ; V. iii. 26. 

Weeds, garments ; III. iii. 239. 



Whex that = when; I. iii. 81. 

Where, so that; IV. iv. 35. 

Whom, which; III. iii. 201. 

Whosoever, let him be whosoever 
he will; I. ii. 208. 

Without, externally, physically; 
III. iii. 97. 

Works = work, what we have 
been able to accomplish; 
(Singer conj. "mocks"; Col- 
lier MS. "lorecks" ', Kinnear 
conj. "wars"); I. iii. 18. 

Worth, worthy of; V. iii. 93. 

Worthier = men worthier; II. 
iii. 140. 

Wrest, instrument for tightening 
the strings of a harp (used 
here figuratively) ; III. iii. 23. 

YoKD, yonder; IV. v. 13. 



175 



STUDY QUESTIONS 

By Anne Throop Craig 



1 



1. What evidences are there that the play passed 
through several stages of revision, and was probably com- 
posed at different times? 

2. Comment on the unity of impression in the play ; the 
development of purpose in it ; the composition among the 
characters ; the resolution. 

3. What are its impressive features? 

4. What authorities were probably drawn upon by 
Shakespeare for the materials of this play? Where did 
he probably derive his ideas of the Greek and Trojan 
heroes ? 

5. Describe the distinctive characteristics of the differ- 
ent persons of the drama. 

6. In what respects has Shakespeare made his Cressida 
more consistent than Chaucer's characterization? How is 
she contrasted with Troilus? 

7. What lines of Troilus, Cressida, and Pandarus, re- 
spectively, carry lasting bywords concerning them? 

8. Quote some of the notable commentaries upon this 
play. 

9. How are Shakespeare and Chaucer compared in their 
treatment of this story? 

10. How is Shakespeare's delineation of character com- 
pared with Homer's in the case of the Greek and Trojan 
heroes ? 

11. What does the Prologue set forth? Why is the 
distinction made of "a prologue arm'd"? 

176 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Study Questions 



12. Where is the first scene laid? 

13. What is Troilus's plaint? What part does Pan- 
darus take in his behalf? 

14. In what various connections are the characters in- 
troduced throughout the act? 

15. How does Cressida appear? How does she speak 
of Hector and Troilus comparatively? Why was she "a 
fool to stay behind her father"? 

16. How does Pandarus describe Troilus to Cressida, 
as he passes before them from the field? What is the dis- 
tinction between Troy and Ilium here? What dramatic 
use has this review of the heroes in this first act? 

17. What is said of Achilles as the heroes and soldiers 
pass ? 

18. What is the substance of Agamemnon's words to his 
heroes in scene iii? What, of Nestor's? 

19. What is the conclusion of Ulysses with regard to 
Troy.'' — and what does he say of Achilles? 

20. What does Nestor say of Ajax? What message 
does ^neas bring to Agamemnon? 

21. Cite the incident of the challenge as taken from 
Chapman. 

22. What do Ulysses and Nestor say of the challenge? 
What do they decide to manoeuvre with regard to it? 



23. Describe Thersites and his manner of speech? 
Where did Shakespeare get most of his hint with regard to 
this characterization? 

24. What proposition does Priam make in scene ii? 
How is it received by Hector and Troilus? What is 
Paris's defense? Compare the aspects of the case as pre- 
sented by the four, Priam and the three of his sons present 
in the scene. 

25. How does Achilles receive the visit of Agamemnon? 

177 



study Questions TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 

26. What does the talk to Ajax, and of him, during this 
passage, convey with regard to him? 



27. Describe the opening scene. What does it mainly 
present? To what does it lead in the action of the sec- 
ond scene? 

28. What exchange for Antenor does Calchas suggest 
to Agamemnon? How is Antenor described in the "Troy- 
Boke"? 

29. How does Ulysses suggest that he and the Greek 
heroes shall behave as they pass Achilles? With what ob- 
ject? 

30. What is the object of Ulysses' talk to Achilles? 

31. What is the incident of Achilles' wish to see Hector 
unarmed, as related- by Caxton? 

32. How does Thersites describe Ajax in his pride over 
his projected encounter with Hector? How does he pro- 
pose to set it off for Achilles' benefit? Describe the inci- 
dent. 



33. What are the three important matters that take 
place in this act? 

34. What answer does Diomed make to Paris, as to the 
claim to Helen? 

35. Describe the parting of Troilus and Cressida. 
How has Cressida shown her nature up to this point? 

36. What does Ulysses see in Cressida? 

37. Describe the combat of Hector and Ajax. 

38. How does Ulysses describe Troilus to Agamemnon? 

39. Describe the friendly meeting of the Greek and 
Trojan heroes. 

40. What does Nestor §ay to Hector that indicates the 
character of Hector's bravery? 

41. What is the import of the final passage between 
Troilus and Ulysses? 

ITS 



TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Study Questions 



42. To whom does Achilles refer in his opening lines? 

43. In the succeeding passage what does Cressida show 
herself to be? What does Troilus prove himself? 

44. What is the warning of Andromache? What 
caused her fear? 

45. What does Cassandra prophesy? 

46. What does Troilus say to Hector that shows Hec- 
tor's bravery as Nestor has previously spoken of it? 
How do these comments upon Hector's character affect our 
sympathies concerning his manner of death? 

47. Ht)w do Hector and Troilus receive the various ad- 
monitions against going to battle on the day prophesied 
as fatal? 

48. What attempt does Pandarus make to revive the 
love affair of Troilus and Cressida? What is its success 
with Troilus? 

49. How does the Caxton History refer to the matter 
of Troilus's horse? 

50. What finally arouses Achilles's wrath to immediate 
action against Hector? 

51. How does Nestor describe Hector's fighting in the 
field? How does Ulysses describe it? How does the lat- 
ter describe the effect, of the prowess of Hector and Tro- 
ilus, on Achilles and Ajax? 

52. Describe the side comments, of Thersites, on the bat- 
tle as it wages. Have they dramatic purpose? 

53. Describe the taking of Hector. 

54. What does Ajax say upon hearing of Hector's 
death? 

55. How do Troilus and the Trojans bewail it? 

56. Comment on the ending of the play. 



179 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



All the unsigned footnotes in this volume are by the 
writer of the article to which they are appended. The in- 
terpretation of the initials signed to the others is: I. G. 
= Israel GoUancz, M.A. ; H. N. H.= Henry Norman 
Hudson, A.M.; C. H. H.= C. H. Herford, Litt.D. 



PREFACE 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 

THE FIRST EDITION 

Measure for Measure was first printed in the First Folio, 
where it occupies pp. 61—84, and holds the fourth place 
among the "Comedies." No direct reference to the play 
has been found anterior to its publication in 1623, nor is 
there any record of its performance before the Restoration, 
when Davenant produced his Law against Lovers, a 
wretched attempt to fuse Measure for Measure and Much 
Ado About Nothing into one play. 

THE DATE OF COMPOSITION 

All arguments for the date of composition of Measure 
for Measure must be drawn from general considerations 
of style, and from alleged allusions. As regards the lat- 
ter, it has been maintained that two passages (Act I, i, 
68-71, and Act II, iv, 27-30), offer "a courtly apology 
for King James I's stately and ungracious demeanor on his 
entry into England," and various points of likeness in the 
character of the Duke and James have been detected. This 
evidence by itself would be of little value, but it certainly 
corroborates the aesthetic and metrical tests, which fix the 
date of composition about the year 1603-4. Further, in 
1607, William Barksted, an admirer of our poet, pub- 
lished a poem, entitled Myrrha, the Mother of Adonis, 
wherein occurs an obvious reminiscence of a passage in 
Measure for Measure: — 

"And like as when some sudden extasie 
Seizeth the nature of a sicklie man; 



Preface MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

When he's discerned to swoon, straight by an by 

Folke to his helpe confusedly have ran; 
And seeking with their art to fetch him backe. 
So many throng, that he the ayre doth lacke." 

(cp. Measure for Measure, II, iv, 24-27). 

Mr. Stokes has advanced the ingenious conjecture that 
Barksted, as one of the children of the Revels, may have 
been the original actor of the part of Isabella.^ 

The strongest argument for the date 1603, generally 
adopted by critics, is derived from the many links between 
this play and Hamlet; they both contain similar reflections 
on Life and Death, though Measure for Measure "deals, 
not like Hamlet with the problems which beset one of ex- 
ceptional temperament, but with mere human nature" (W. 
Pater, Appreciations, p. 179). There are, moreover, 
striking parallelisms of expression in the two plays. Sim- 
ilarly, incidents in Measure for Measure recall AlVs Well 
that Ends Well; Isabella and Helena seem almost twin- 
sisters ; but the questions at issue concerning the latter play 
are too intricate to warrant us in drawing conclusions as 
regards the date of the former play. 

SOURCE OF THE PLAY 

The plot of Measure for Measure was ultimately derived 
from the Hecatommithi of Giraldi Cinthio (Decad. 8, 
Nov. 5) : the direct source, however, was a dramatization 
of the story by George Whetstone, whose Promos and Cas- 
sandra, never acted, was printed in 1578. The title of 
this tedious production is noteworthy as indicating the 
rough outline of Shakespeare's original: — 

The Right Excellent and Famous | History \ of Promos 
and Cassandra; \ divided into two Comical Discourses. \ 
In the first part is shown, \ the unsufferable abuse of a 
lewd Magistrate, \ the virtuous behaviour of a chaste 
Lady; \ the uncontrolled lewdness of a favoured Courtesan, 

1 Cp. The Chronological Order of Shakespeare's Plays; H. P. 
Stokes; pp. 106-X09, 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Preface 

] and the undeserved estimation of a pernicious Parasite. \ 
In the second 'part is discoursed, \ the perfect magnanimity 
of a noble King | in checking Vice and favouring Virtue: 
I Wherein is shown | the Ruin and Overthrow of dishonest 
practices, \ with the advancement of upright dealing. \ 
{Cp. Hazlitt's Shakespeare Library; Part II, Vol. ii.) 

In 1582 Whetstone included a prose version of the same 
story in his Heptameron of Civil Discourses, — a version 
probably known to Shakespeare ; it has even been inferred 
that "in this narrative he may well have caught the first 
glimpse of a composition with nobler proportions." 

The old play of Promos and Cassandra may claim the 
distinction of having provided the rough material for 
Measure for Measure; the earlier production should be 
read in order to understand, somewhat at least, how the 
poet has transformed his crude original; how he has in- 
fused into it a loftier motive ; how he has ennobled its 
heroine, and created new episodes and new characters. 
The picture of the wronged, dejected mistress of the 
moated grange is wholly Shakespeare's. 

DURATION OF ACTION 

The time of action consists of four days : — 

Day 1. Act I, sc. i, may be taken as a kind of prelude^ 
after which some little interval must be supposed in order 
to permit the new governors of the city to settle to their 
work. The rest of the play is comprised in three consecu- 
tive days. 

Day 2 commences with Act I, sc. ii, and ends with Act 
IV, sc. ii. 

Day 3 commences with Act IV, sc. ii, and ends with t 
IV, sc. iv. 

Day 4 includes Act IV, scs. v and vi, and the whole of 
Act V, which is one scene only (P. A. Daniel; On the 
Times in Shakespeare's Plays: New Shakespeare Soc, 
1877-79). 



INTRODUCTION 

By Henry Norman Hudson, A.M. 

Measure for Measure stands the fourth in the list of 
Comedies in the foho of 1623, where it was first printed. 
The divisions and subdivisions of acts and scenes are care- 
fully noted in the original edition, and at the end is a 
list of the persons represented, under the usual heading, 
"The names of all the actors." Though the general scope 
and sense of the dialogue are everj'^where clear enough, 
there are several obscure and doubtful words and passages, 
which cause us to regret, more than in any of the preced- 
ing plays, the want of earlier impressions to illustrate, and 
rectify, or establish, the text. As it is, the right reading 
in some places can scarce be cleared of uncertainty, or 
placed beyond controversy. 

The strongly-marked peculiarity in the language, cast 
of thought, and moral temper of Measure for Measure, 
have invested the play with great psychological interest, 
and bred a strange curiosity among critics to connect it in 
some way with the author's mental history ; with some sup- 
posed crisis in his feelings and experience. Hence the 
probable date of its composition was for a long time ar- 
gued more strenuously than the subject would otherwise 
seem to justify; and, as often falls out in such cases, the 
more the critics argued the point, the farther they were 
from coming to an agreement. But, what is not a little 
remarkable, the best thinkers have here struck widest of 
the truth ; the dull matter-of-fact critics have borne the 
palm away from their more philosophical brethren ; — an 
edifying instance how little the brightest speculation can 
do in questions properly falling within the domain of facts. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

Tieck and Ulrici, proceeding mainly upon internal evi- 
dence, fix the date somewhere between 1609 and 1612 ; and 
it is quite curious to observe how confident and positive 
they are in their inferences: Ulrici, after stating the rea- 
sons of Tieck for 1612, says — "The later origin of the 
piece — certainly it did not precede 1609 — is vouched still 
more strongly by the profound masculine earnestness which 
pervades it, and by the prevalence of the same tone of feel- 
ing which led Shakespeare to abandon the life and pursuits 
of London for his native town." 

Until since these conclusions were put forth, the Eng- 
lish critics, in default of other data, grounded their rea- 
sonings upon certain probable allusions to contemporary 
matters ; especially those passages which express the Duke's 
fondness for "the life remov'd," and his aversion to being 
greeted by crowds of people: and Chalmers, a very con- 
siderable instance of critical dullness, had the sagacity to 
discover a sort of portrait-like resemblance in the Duke 
to King James I. As the King was undeniabl}'- a much 
better theologian than statesman or governor, the circum- 
stance of the Duke's appearing so much more at home in 
the cowl and hood than in his ducal robes certainly lends 
some credit to this discovery. The King's unamiable re- 
pugnance to being gazed upon by throngs of admiring 
subjects is thus spoken of by a contemporary writer: "In 
his public appearance, especially in his sports, the accesses 
of the people made him so impatient, that he often dis- 
persed them with frowns, that we may not say with curses." 
And his unhandsome bearing towards the crowds which, 
prompted by eager loyalty, flocked forth to hail his ac- 
cession, is noted by several historians. But he was a pretty 
liberal, and, for the time, judicious encourager of the 
drama, as well as of other learned delectations ; and with 
those who sought or had tasted his patronage it was nat- 
ural that these symptoms of weakness, or of something 
worse, should pass for tokens of a wise superiority to the 
dainties of popular applause. 

All which renders it quite probable that the Poet may 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

have had an eye to the King in the passages cited bj Ma- 
lone in support of his conjecture. 

"I love the people, 
But do not like to stage me to their eyes: 
Though it do well, I do not relish well 
Their loud applause and aves vehement; 
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion 
That does affect it." 

"And even so 
The general, subject to a well-wish'd king. 
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness 
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love 
Must needs appear offence." 

The allusion here being granted, Malone's inference that 
the play was probably made soon after the King's acces- 
sion, and before the effect of his unlooked-for austerity 
on this score had spent itself, was natural enough. Nor is 
the conjecture of Ulrici and others without weight, "that 
Shakespeare was led to the composition of the play by the 
rigoristic sentiments and arrogant virtue of the Puritans." 
And in this view several points of the main action might 
be aptly suggested at the time in question: for the King 
had scarcely set foot in England but he began to be 
worried by the importunities of that remarkable people, 
who had been feeding upon the hope, that by the sole ex- 
ercise of his prerogative he would cast out surplice, Lit- 
urgy, and Episcopacy, and revolutionize the Church up 
to the Presbyterian model; it being a prime notion of 
theirs, that with the truth a minority, however small, was 
better than a majority, however large, without it. 

Whether this view be fully warranted or not, it has been 
much strengthened by a recent discovery. The play is 
now known to have been acted at court December 26, 1604. 
For this knowledge we are indebted to Edmund Tylney's 
Account of the Revels at Court, preserved in the Audit 
Office, Somerset House, and lately edited by Mr. Peter 
Cunningham. Tylney was Master of the Revels from 
1579 to 1610 ; and in his account of expenses for the year 
xii 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

beginning in October, 1604, occurs the following entry : 
"By His Majesty's players: On St. Stephen's night in the 
Hall a play called Measure for Measure." In a column 
headed "The Poets which made the Plays," our author is 
set down as "Mr. Shaxberd" ; the writer not taking pains 
to know the right spelling of a name, the mentioning of 
which was to be the sole cause that his own should be re- 
membered in after ages and on other continents. 

The date of the play being so far ascertained, all the 
main probabilities allegeable from the play itself readily 
fall into harmony therewith. And it is rather remarkable 
that Measure for Measure most resembles some other plays, 
known to have been written about the same time, in those 
very characteristics which led the German critics to fix 
upon a later date. Which shows how weak, in such cases, 
the internal evidence of style, temper, and spirit is by itself, 
and yet how strong in connection with the external evi- 
dence of facts. 

No question is made, that for some particulars in the 
plot and story of Measure for Measure the Poet was ulti- 
mately indebted to Giraldi Cinthio, an Italian novelist of 
the sixteenth century. The original story forms the 
eighty-fifth in his Hecatommithi, or Hundred Tales. A 
youth named Ludovico is there overtaken in the same fault 
as Claudio ; Juriste, a magistrate highly reputed for wis- 
dom and justice, passes sentence of death upon him; and 
Epitia, Ludovico's sister, a virgin of rare gifts and graces, 
goes to pleading for her brother's life. Casting herself at 
the governor's feet, her beauty and eloquence, made doubly 
potent by the tears of suffering affection, have the same 
effect upon him as Isabella's upon Angelo. His proposals 
are rejected with scorn and horror; but the lady, overcome 
by the pathetic entreaties of her brother, at last yields to 
them under a solemn promise of marriage. His object 
being gained, the wicked man commits a double vow-breach, 
neither marrying the lady nor sparing her brother. She 
carries her cause to the Emperor, by whom Juriste is con- 
victed, forced to marry her, and then sentenced to death: 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

but is at last pardoned at the suit of Epitia, who is now 
as earnest and eloquent for her husband as she had been 
for her brother. Her holy and heroic conduct touches him 
with remorse, and finally proves as effective in redeeming 
his character as it was in redeeming his life. 

As early as 1578, this tale of Cinthio's was dramatized 
after a sort by George Whetstone. The title of Whet- 
stone's performance runs thus : The- right excellent and 
famous History of Promos and Cassandra, divided into 
Comical Discourses. In the conduct of the story Whet- 
stone varies somewhat from his model ; as may be seen by 
the following abstract of his argument: 

In the city of Julio, then under the rule of Corvinus, 
King of Hungary, there was a law that for incontinency 
the man should lose his head, and the woman be marked 
out for infamy by her dress. Through the indulgence of 
magistrates this severe law came to be little regarded. At 
length the government falling into the hands of Lord 
Promos, he revived the terrible statute, and, a youth named 
Andrugio being convicted of the fault in question, re- 
solved to visit the penalties in their utmost rigor upon 
both him and his partner in guilt. Andrugio had a sister 
of great virtue and accomplishment, named Cassandra, 
who undertook to sue for his life. Her good behavior, 
great beauty, and the sweet order of her talk wrought so 
far with the governor as to induce a short reprieve ; but, 
his love soon turning into lust, he set down the spoil of her 
honor as the ransom ; but she, abhorring both him and his 
suit, could by no persuasion be won to his wish. ' Unable, 
however, to stand out against the pathetic pleadings of 
her brother, she at last yielded to the wicked man's pro- 
posal, upon condition that he should pardon her brother 
and then marry her. This he solemnly vowed to do ; but, 
his wish being gained, instead of keeping his vows, he 
ordered the jailer to present Cassandra with her brother's 
head. The jailer, knowing what the governor had done, 
and touched with the outcries of Andinigio, took the head 
of a felon just executed, and set the other at liberty. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE ' introduction 

Cassandra, thinking the head to be her brother's, was at 
the point to kill herself for grief at this treachery, but 
spared that stroke to be avenged of the traitor. She de- 
vised to make her case known to the King, and he forth- 
with hastened to do justice -upon Promos, ordering that 
to repair the lady's honor he should marry her, and then 
for his crime against the state lose his head. No sooner 
was Cassandra a wife, than all her rhetoric of eye, tongue, 
and action was tasked to procure the pardon of her hus- 
band; but the King, tendering the public good more than 
hers, denied her suit. At length Andrugio, overcome by 
his sister's grief, made himself known ; for he had all the 
while been about the place in disguise ; whereupon the 
King, to honor the virtues of Cassandra, pardoned both 
him and Promos. 

In 1582 Whetstone published his Heptameron of Civil 
Discourses, containing a prose version of the same tale. 
He was a writer of learning and talent, but not such that 
even the instructions of Shakespeare could have made him 
capable of dramatic excellence ; and, as he had no such 
benefit, his perfoinnance, as might be expected, is insipid 
and worthless enough. It is observable that he deviates 
most from Cinthio in managing to bring Andrugio off 
alive ; and from Shakespeare's concurring with him herein 
it may be fairly inferred that the borrowings were from 
him, not from the original author. The Poet, moreover, 
represents the illicit meeting of Claudio and Juliet as 
taking place under the shield of a solemn betrothment ; 
which very much softens their fault, as marriage bonds 
were already upon them, and proportionably heightens the 
injustice of Angelo, as it brings upon him the guilt of 
making the law responsible for his own arbitrary rigor. 
Beyond this outline of the story, it does not appear that 
Shakespeare took any thing from Whetstone more than a 
few slight hints and casual expressions. And a compari- 
son of the two performances were very far from abating 
the Poet's fame ; it being more creditable to have lifted 
the story out of the mire into such a region of art and 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

poetry than to have invented it. The main original fea- 
ture in the plot of Measure for Measure is the part of 
Mariana, which puts a new life into the whole, and purifies 
it almost into another nature ; as it prevents the soiling 
of Isabella's holy womanhood, suggests an apt reason for 
the Duke's mysterious conduct, and yields a pregnant mo- 
tive for Angelo's pardon, in that his life is thereby bound 
up with that of a wronged and innocent woman, whom his 
crimes are made the occasion of restoring to her rights and 
happiness, so that her virtue may be justly allowed to re- 
prieve him from death. 

In the comic scenes of Whetstone's play there is all the 
grossness of Measure for Measure, unredeemed by any 
thing that the utmost courtesy of language can call wit 
or humor: here, as Shakespeare took no help, so he can 
have no excuse, from his predecessor. But he probably 
saw that some such matter was required by the scheme of 
the work and the laws of artistic proportion ; and as in 
these parts the truth and character are all his own, so he 
can scarce be blamed for not anticipating the delicacy of 
later times, there being none such in the most refined au- 
diences of his day: and his choice of a subject so ugly 
in itself is amply justified by the many sweet lessons of 
virtue and wisdom which he has used it as an opportunity 
of delivering. To have trained and taught a barbarous 
tale of cruelty and lust into such a rich mellow fruitage of 
poetry and humanity, may be safely left to off'set what- 
soever of off^ense there may be in the play to modern taste. 
Perhaps the hardest thing to digest is the conduct of 
Angelo, as being too improbable for a work of art or fic- 
tion ; though history has recorded several instances sub- 
stantially the same, — of which probably the most familiar 
to English and American ears is that of Colonel Kirke, 
a lewd and inhuman minion of James II, whose crimes, 
however, did not exclude him from the favor of William 
III. 

We have already referred to certain characteristics of 
style and temper which this play shares with several oth- 



MEASUEE FOR MEASURE introduction 

ers written about the same period, and which have been 
thought to mark some crisis in the Poet's Hfe. It cannot 
well be denied that the plays in question have something 
of a peculiar spirit, which might aptly suggest that some 
rude uncivil shock must have untuned the melody of his 
soul; that some passage of bitter experience must have 
turned the sweet milk of his genius for a time into gall, 
and put him upon a course of harsh and ungentle thought. 
The matter is well stated by Mr. Hallam: "There seems 
to have been a period of Shakespeare's life when his heart 
was ill at ease, and ill content with the world or his own 
conscience: the memory of hours misspent, the pang of 
affection misplaced or unrequited, the experience of man's 
worser nature, which intercourse with ill-chosen associates 
peculiarly teaches ; these, as they sank down into the depths 
of his great mind, seem not only to have inspired into it 
the conception of Lear and Timon, but that of one primary 
character, the censurer of mankind. This type is first 
seen in the philosophic melancholy of Jaques, gazing with 
an undiminished serenity, and with a gayety of fancy, 
though not of manners, on the follies of the world. It 
assumes a graver cast in the exiled Duke of the same play, 
and one rather more severe in the Duke of Measure for 
Measure. In all these, however, it is merely a contem- 
plative philosophy. In Hamlet this is mingled with the 
impulses of a perturbed heart under the pressure of ex- 
traordinary circumstances ; it shines no longer, as in the 
former characters, with a steady light, but plays in fitful 
coruscations amid feigned gayety and extravagance. In 
Lear, it is the flash of sudden inspiration across the incon- 
gruous imagery of madness; in Timon, it is obscured by 
the exaggerations of misanthropy." Mr. Verplanck 
speaks in a similar strain of "that portion of the author's 
life which was memorable for the production of Othello, 
with all its bitter passion ; the additions to the original 
Hamlet, with their melancholy wisdom; probably of 
Timon, with his indignant and hearty scorn, and rebukes 
of the baseness of civilized society ; and above all of Lear, 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

with its dark pictures of unmixed, unmitigated guilt, and 
its terrible and prophet-like denunciations." 

These words certainly carry much weight, and may go 
far to warrant the suggestion of the same authors, that 
the Poet was visited with some external calamity, which 
wrought itself into his moral frame ; some assault of for- 
tune, that wrenched his mind from its once smooth and 
happy course, causing it to recoil upon itself and brood 
over its own thoughts. Yet there are considerable diffi- 
culties besetting a theory of this kind. For there is no 
proof that Timon, but much that Twelfth Night, was writ- 
ten during the period in question: besides, even in the 
plays referred to there is so much of unquestionable dif- 
ference blended with the acknowledged likeness, as will 
greatly embarrass, if not quite defeat, such a theory. But 
whatsoever may have caused the peculiar tone, the darker 
cast of thought, in these plays, it is pleasing to know that 
that darkness passed away; the clear azure, soft sunshine, 
and serene sweetness of The Tempest and The Winters 
Tale being unquestionably of a later date. And surely, 
in the life of so thoughtful a man as Shakespeare, there 
might well be, nay, there must needs have been, times when, 
without any special woundings or bruisings of fortune, 
his mind got fascinated by the awful mystery, the ap- 
palling presence of evil that haunts our fallen nature. 

That these hours, however occasioned, were more fre- 
quent at one period of his life than at others, is indeed 
probable. And it was equally natural that their coming 
should sometimes engage him in heart-tugging and brain- 
sweating efforts to scrutinize the inscrutable workings of 
human guilt, and thus stamp itself strongly upon the off- 
spring of his mind. Thus, without any other than the 
ordinary progress of thoughtful spirits, we should natu- 
rally have a middle period, when the early enthusiasm of 
hope and successful endeavor had passed away, and before 
the deeper, calmer, but not less cheerful tranquillity of 
resignation had set in, the experienced insufficiency of man 
for himself having charmed the wrestlings of thought into 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

repose, and his spirit having undergone the chastening and 
subduing power of life's sterner discipHne. 

In some such passage as this, then, we should rather pre- 
sume the unique conception of Measure for Measure to 
have been wrought up in his mind. We say unique, be- 
cause this is his only instance of comedy where the wit 
seems to foam and sparkle up from a fountain of bitter- 
ness ; where even the humor is made pungent with sarcasm ; 
and where the poetry is marked with tragic austerity. In 
none of his plays does he exhibit less of learning upon pre- 
existing models, or a more manly negligence, perhaps some- 
times carried to excess, of those lighter graces of manner 
which none but the greatest minds may safely despise. 
His genius is here out in all its colossal individuality, and 
he seems to have meant it should be so ; as if he felt that 
he had now reached his mastership ; as if a large ex- 
perience and long testing of his powers had taught him 
-a just self-reliance, and given him to know that, from be- 
ing the offspring, he was to become the soul of his age; 
that from his accumulated and well-practised learnings he 
had built up a power to teach still nobler lessons ; so that, 
instead of leaning any longer upon those who had gone 
before, he was to be himself a safe leaning-place for those 
that were to follow. 

Accordingly, if we here miss something of what Words- 
worth finely calls 

"That monumental grace 
Of Faith, which doth all passions tame 

That Reason should control, 
And shows in the untrembling frame 

A statue of the soul"; 

3'et we have the wise though fearless grapplings and strug- 
glings of mind with thoughts too big for human mastery, 
whereby the imperfection was in due time to be out- 
grown. The thought is strong, and in its strength care- 
less of appearances, and rather wishing than fearing to 
have its roughnesses seen: the style is rugged, irregular, 
xix 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

abrupt, sometimes running into an almost forbidding stern- 
ness, but every where throbbing with Hfe ; the words, di- 
rect of movement, sudden and sure of result, always going 
right to the spot, and leaving none of their work undone: 
with but little of elaborate grace or finish, we have a few 
bold, deep strokes, where the want of finer softenings and 
shadings is more than made up by increased energy and 
expressiveness: often a rush and flood of thought is con- 
densed and rammed into a line or clause, so that the life 
thereof beats and reverberates through the whole scene. 
Hence, perhaps, it is, in part, that so many axioms and 
"brief sententious precepts" of moral and political wisdom 
from this play have wrought themselves into the currency 
and familiarity of household words, and live for instruc- 
tion or comfort in the memory of many who know nothing 
of their original source. 

Whether from the nature of the subject, or the mode 
of treating it, or both, Measure for Measure is generally 
regarded as one of the least attractive, though most in- 
structive, of Shakespeare's plays. Coleridge, in those 
precious fragments of his critical lectures, which now form 
our best text-book of English criticism, says, — "This play, 
which is Shakespeare's throughout, is to me the most pain- 
ful — say rather, the only painful — part of his genuine 
works. The comic and tragic parts equally border on the 
fuarjTov, — the one being disgusting, the other horrible ; and 
the pardon and marriage of Angelo not merely baffles the 
strong indignant claims of justice, (for cruelty, with 
lust and damnable baseness, cannot be forgiven, because we 
cannot conceive them as being morally repented of;) but 
it is likewise degrading to woman." This language, 
though there is much in other critics to bear it out, seems 
not a little stronger than the subject will fairly justify; 
and when, in his Table Talk, he says that "Isabella herself 
contrives to be unamiable, and Claudio is detestable," we 
can by no means go along with him. 

It would seem indeed as if undue censure had often 
passed, not so much on the play itself, as upon some of 

XX 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

the persons, from trying tliem by a moral standard which 
cannot be fairly applied to them, as they are not supposed 
to have any means of knowing it ; or from not duly weigh-' 
ing all the circumstances, feelings, and motives under which 
they are represented as acting. Thus Ulrici speaks of 
Claudio as being guilty of seduction: which is surely wide 
of the mark; it being clear enough, that by the standard 
of morality then and there approved, he was, as he con- 
sidered himself, virtually married, though not admissible 
to all the rights of the married life ; in accordance with 
what the Duke says to Mariana, that there would be no 
crime in her meeting with Angelo, because he was her "hus- 
band on a pre-contract." And who does not know that, 
in ancient times, the ceremony of betrothment conferred 
the marriage tie, but not the nuptials, so that the union 
of the parties was thenceforth firm in the eyes of the law 
itself? Mr. Hallam, in like sort, speaking of Isabella, 
says, — "One is disposed to ask, whether, if Claudio had 
been really executed, the spectator would not have gone 
away with no great affection for her ; and at least we now 
feel that her reproaches against her miserable brother, 
when he clings to life like a frail and guilty being, are 
too harsh." In reply to the first part of which, we would 
venture to ask this accomplished critic whether she would 
not have suffered a still greater depreciation in his esteem, 
if she had yielded to Angelo's proposal. As to the sec- 
ond part, though we do indeed feel that Claudio were 
rather to be pitied than blamed, whatever course he had 
taken in so terrible an alternative, yet the conduct of his 
sister strikes us as every way creditable to her. Her re- 
proaches were indeed too harsh, if they appeared to spring 
from any want of love ; but as it is their very harshness 
does her honor, as it shows the natural workings of a ten- 
der and deep affection, in an agony of disappointment at 
being counseled, by one for whom she would die, to an act 
which she shrinks from with noble horror, and justly re- 
gards as worse than death. We have here the keen an- 
guish of conflicting feelings venting itself in a severity 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

which, though certainly undeserved, only serves to disclose 
the more impressively the treasured riches of her charac- 
ter. And the same judicious writer, after stating that, 
without the part of Mariana, "the story could not have had 
any thing like a satisfactory termination," goes on, — 
"Yet it is never explained how the Duke had become ac- 
quainted with this secret, and, being acquainted with it, 
how he had preserved his esteem and confidence in Angelo." 
But surely we are given to understand in the outset that 
the Duke has not preserved the esteem and confidence in 
question. In his first scene with friar Thomas, among his 
reasons for the action he has on foot, he makes special 
mention of this one : 

"Lord Angelo is precise; 
Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses 
That his blood flows, or that his appetite 
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see, 
If fower change purpose, what our seemers he" : 

thus inferring that his main purpose, in assuming the dis- 
guise of a monk, is to unmask the deputy, and demon- 
strate to others what himself has long known. And the 
Duke throws out other hints of a belief or suspicion that 
Lord Angelo is angling for emolument or popular breath, 
and baiting his hook with great apparent strictness and 
sanctity of life ; thus putting on sheep's clothing to the 
end that he may play the wolf with safety and success. 
Nor was there much cause for explaining how the Duke 
came by the secret concerning Mariana ; it being enough 
that he knows it, that the knowledge thereof justifies his 
distrust, and that when the time comes he uses it for a 
good purpose; the latter part of the work thus throwing 
light on what has gone before, and the former preparing 
the mind for what is to follow. Nor is it unreasonable 
to presume that one of the Duke's motives for the strata- 
gem was, that he was better able to understand the depu- 
ty's character than persuade others of it : for a man of his 
wisdom, even if he had no available facts in the case, could 
hardly be ignorant that an austerity so theatrical as 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

Angelo's must needs be not so much a virtue as an art; 
and that one so forward to air his graces and make his 
light shine could scarce intend thereby any other glory 
•".ban his own. 

Yet Angelo is not so properly a hypocrite as a self-de- 
ceiver. For it is very considerable that he wishes to be, 
and sincerely thinks that he is what he affects and appears 
to be ; as is plain from his consternation at the wicked- 
ness which opportunity awakens into conscious action 
within him. For a most searching and pregnant exposi- 
tion of this type of character the reader may be referred 
to Bishop Butler's Sermon before the House of Lords on 
the 30th of January; where that great and good man, 
whose every sentence is an acorn of wisdom, speaks of a 
class of men who "try appearances upon themselves as 
well as upon the world, and with at least as much success ; 
and choose to manage so as to make their own minds easy 
with their faults, which can scarce be done without man- 
agement, rather than to mend them." Thus Angelo for 
self-ends imitates sanctity, and gets taken in by his own 
imitation. His original fault lay in forgetting or ignor- 
ing his own frailty. As a natural consequence, his "dar- 
ling sin is pride that apes humility" ; and his pride of 
virtue, his conceit of purity, "my gravity wherein (let 
no man hear me) I take pride," while it keeps him from 
certain vices, is itself a far greater vice than any it keeps 
him from ; insomuch that Isabella's presence may almost be 
said to elevate him into lust. And perhaps the array of 
low and loathsome vices, which the Poet has clustered about 
him in the persons of Lucio, the Clown, and Mrs. Over- 
done, was necessary to make us feel how unspeakably worse 
than any or all of these is Angelo's pride of virtue. It 
can hardly be needful to add, that in Angelo this "mys- 
tery of iniquity" is depicted with a truth and sternness of 
pencil, that could scarce have been achieved but in an age 
fruitful in living examples of it. 

The placing of Isabella, "a thing enskied and sainted," 
and who truly is all that Angelo seems, side by side with 



Introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

such a breathing shining mass of pitch, is one of those 
dramatic audacities wherein none perhaps but a Shake- 
speare could safely indulge. Of her character the most 
prolific hint that is given is what she says to the Duke, 
when he is urging her to fasten her ear on his advisings 
touching the part of Mariana: "I have spirit to do any 
thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit." 
That is, she cares not what face the action may wear to 
the, world, nor how much reproach it may bring upon her 
from others, if it will only leave her the society, which she 
has never parted from, of a clean breast and an unsoiled 
conscience. In strict keeping with this, her character ap- 
pears to us among the finest, in some respects the very 
finest in Shakespeare's matchless cabinet of female excel- 
lence! Called from the cloister, where she is on the point 
of taking the veil of earthly renouncement, to plead for 
her brother's life, she comes forth a saintly anchoress, clad 
in the sweet austere composures of womanhood, to throw 
the light of her virgin soul upon the dark, loathsome scenes 
and characters around her. With great strength of intel- 
lect and depth of feeling she unites an equal power of 
imagination, the whole being pervaded, quickened, and 
guided by a still, intense religious enthusiasm. And be- 
cause her virtue is securely rooted and grounded in reli- 
gion, therefore she never once thinks of it as her own, but 
only as a gift from the God whom she loves, and who is 
her only hope for the keeping of what she has. Which 
suggests the fundamental point of contrast between her 
and Angelo, whose virtue, if such it may be called, is noth- 
ing, nay, worse than nothing, because it is one of his own 
making, and has no basis but pride, which is itself but a 
bubble. Accordingly, there is a vestal beauty about her, 
to which we know of nothing equal save in the lives of 
some of the whitest saints. The power and pathos with 
which she pleads for her brother are well known. At first 
she is timid, distrustful of her powers, shrinking with 
modest awe of the law's appointed organ ; and she seems 
drawn unawares into the heights of moral argument and 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

the most sweetly-breathing strains of Gospel wisdom. 
Much of what she says has become domesticated wherever 
the English language is spoken, and would long since have 
grown old, if it were possible by any means to crush the 
freshness of immortal youth out of it. 

The Duke has been rather hardly dealt with by critics. 
The Poet — than Avhom it would not be easy to find a bet- 
ter judge of what belongs to wisdom and goodness — seems 
to have meant him for a wise and good man ; yet he has 
represented him as having rather more skill and pleasure 
in strategical arts and roundabout ways than is altogether 
compatible with such a character. Some of his alleged 
reasons for the action he is going about reflect no honor 
on him ; but it is observable that the result does not ap- 
prove them to have been his real ones: his conduct at the 
end infers better motives than his speech offered at the 
beginning; which naturally suggests that there may have 
been more of purpose than of truth in his statement of 
them. A liberal, sagacious, and merciful prince, but with 
more of whim and caprice than suits the dignity of his 
place, humanity speaks richly from his lips ; yet in his ac- 
tion the philosopher and divine is better shown than the 
ctatesman ; and he seems to t ke a very queetionable delight 
in moving about as a unseen providence, by secret coun- 
sels leading the wicked designs of others to safe and whole- 
some issues. Schlegel thinks "iie has more pleasure in 
overhear ig his subjects than in governing them in the 
usual way of princes" ; and tets him down as an exception 
to the proverb, — "A cowl does not make a monk" : and 
perhaps his princely virtues are somewhat obscured by the 
disguise which so completely transforms him into a monk. 
Whether he acts upon the wicked principle with which that 
fraternity is so often reproached, or not, it is pretty cer- 
tain that some of his means can be justified by nothing 
but the end : so that if he be not himself wrong in what he 
does, he has no shield from the charge but the settled cus- 
tom of the order whose functions he undertakes. Schlegel 
justly remarks, that "Shakespeare, amidst the rancour of 



introduction MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

religious parties, delights in painting monks, and always 
represents their influence as beneficial; there being in his 
plays none of the black and knavish specimens, which an 
enthusiasm for Protestantism, rather than poetical inspira- 
tion, has put some modern poets upon delineating. He 
merely gives his monks an inclination to be busy in the 
affairs of others, after renouncing the world for them- 
selves ; though in respect of pious frauds he does not make 
them very scrupulous." As to the Duke's pardon of 
Angelo, though Justice seems to cry out against the act, 
yet in the premises it were still more unjust in him to do 
otherwise ; the deception he has practised upon Angelo 
in the substituting of Mariana having plainly bound him 
to the course he takes. For the same power whereby he 
eff^ects this could easily have prevented Angelo's crime ; 
and to punish the offense after thus withholding the means 
of prevention were obviously wrong; not to mention how 
his proceedings here involve an innocent person, so that 
he ought to spare Angelo for her sake, if not for his own. 
Nor does it strike us as very prudent to set bounds to the 
grace of repentance, or to say what amount of sin must 
render a man incapable of it. All which may in some 
measure explain the Duke's severity to the smaller crime 
of Lucio after his clemency to the greater one of Angelo. 
Lucio is one of those mixed characters, such as are often 
generated amidst the refinements of city life, in Avhom 
low and disgusting vices, and a frivolity still more offen- 
sive, aye blended with engaging manners and some manly 
sentiments. Thus he appears a gentleman and a black- 
guard by turns, and, what is more, does really unite some- 
thing of these seemingly incompatible qualities. With a 
true eye and a just sympathy for virtue in others, yet, so 
far as we can see, he cares not a jot to have it in himself. 
And while his wanton, waggish levity seems too much for 
any generous feeling to consist with, still he shows a strong 
and hearty friendship for Claudio ; as if on purpose to 
teach us how "the web of our life is of a mingled yarn, 
good and ill together." 

xxvi 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE introduction 

Dr. Johnson rather oddly remarks, that "the comic 
scenes are natural and pleasing" ; not indeed but that the 
remark is true enough, but that it seems rather out of 
character. And if these scenes please, it is not so much 
from any fund of mirthful exhilaration, or any genial 
gushes of wit and humor, as from the reckless, unsympa- 
thizing freedom, not unmingled with touches of scorn, with 
which the deformities of mankind are shown up. The con- 
trast between the right-thoughted, well-meaning Claudio, 
a generous spirit walled in with overmuch infirmity, and 
Barnardine, a frightful petrifaction of humanity, "care- 
less, reckless, and fearless of what is past, present, or to 
come," is in the Poet's boldest manner. 

Nevertheless, the general current of things is far from 
musical, and the issues greatly disappoint the reader's feel- 
ings. The drowsy Justice, which we expect and wish to " 
see awakened, and set in living harmony with Mercy, ap- 
parently relapses at last into a deeper sleep than ever. 
Our loyalty to Womanhood is not a little wounded by the 
humiliations to which poor Mariana stoops, at the ghostly 
counsels of her spiritual guide, that she may twine her 
life with that of the cursed hypocrite who has wronged 
her sex so deeply. That, amid the general impunity of 
so much crime, the mere telling of some ridiculous lies 
to the Duke about himself should draw down a dispropor- 
tionate severity upon Lucio, the lively, unprincipled jester 
and wag, who might well be let pass as a privileged char- 
acter, makes the whole look more as if done in mockery of 
justice than in honor of mercy. Except, indeed, the noble 
unfolding of Isabella, scarce any thing turns out as we 
would have it ; nor are we much pleased at seeing her di- 
verted from the quiet tasks and holy contemplations which 
she is so able and worthy to enjoy. 

It will not be amiss to add, that the title of this play 
is apt to give a wrong impression of its scope and pur- 
pose. Measure for Measure is in itself equivocal ; but the 
subject-matter here fixes it to be taken in the sense, not 
of the old Jewish proverb, "An eye for an eye, and a tooth 



Introduction MEASURE FOE MEASURE 

for a tooth," but of the divine precept, "Whatsoever ye 
would th,at men should do to you, do ye even so to them." 
Thus the title falls in with that noble line by Coleridge, 
"What nature makes us mourn, she bids us heal" ; or with 
a similar passage in The Merchant of Venice, "We do pray 
for mercy, and that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
the deeds of mercy." 



COMMENTS 

By Shakespearean Scholars 

ISABELLA 

Isabella has also the innate dignity which renders her 
"queen o'er herself," but she has lived far from the world 
and its pomps and pleasures ; she is one of a consecrated 
sisterhood — a noA'ice of St. Clare ; the power to command 
obedience and to confer happiness are to her unknown. 
Portia is a splendid creature, radiant with confidence, hope, 
and joy. She is like the orange-tree, hung at once with 
golden fruit and luxuriant flowers, which has expanded 
into bloom and fragrance beneath favoring skies, and has 
been nursed into beauty by the sunshine and the dews of 
heaven. Isabella is like a stately and graceful cedar, tow- 
ering on some alpine cliff, unbowed and unscathed amid 
the storm. She gives us the impression of one who has 
passed under the ennobling discipline of suffering and self- 
denial: a melancholy charm tempers the natural vigor of 
her mind : her spirit seems to stand upon an eminence, and 
look down upon the world as if already enskyed and sainted ; 
and yet when brought in contact with that world which she 
inwardly despises, she shrinks back with all the timidity 
natural to her cloistral education. — Jameson, Shake- 
speare's Heroines. 

But the poet in Shakespeare comes first, and the philos- 
opher only second; and the title of the play should rather 
be "Isabella." It is better to know the dramas of Shake- 
speare by their women than by their philosophy ; and of 
these women Isabella is the best. You may like them for 
several virtues, these women ; and by the word "best" I 
xxix 



Comments MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

mean the most "moral" ; this accords with the whole scheme 
of the play. Isabella — we conclude with the poet's own 
description — is a saint. I am not quoting "a thing en- 
sky'd and sainted" ; these words have reference to the 
cloister ; but I allude to III, i, 186-7. Again, let me illus- 
trate, and by comparison ; there is no inductive method in 
literature. Isabella we may compare with the Portia of 
The Merchant of Venice, and the distinction is most strik- 
ing ; she combines all the daring of Portia with cold calm- 
ness and a hesitancy of peculiar charm. Portia would 
have importuned Angelo quite otherwise (II, ii) ; Isabella 
is at war 'twixt will and will not; but for the urgency of 
Lucio she might have withdrawn from the contest ; this is 
one of the finest things in the play. But as she proceeds, 
love dominates the scruple of morality, and she gains the 
respite of another interview. — Luce, Handbook to Shake- 
speare's Works. 

THE DUKE 

The reigning Duke, who had thus allowed this law to 
slumber, had done so from kindness of heart and innate 
mildness. He thinks himself justified in bearing testimony 
to himself that even to the envious he must appear a 
scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. He holds that high 
moral opinion that the ruler and judge ought to be as 
holy as he is severe, a pattern in himself, "grace to stand 
and virtue go"; he considers him as a tyrant who punishes 
in others the faults into which he falls himself. His whole 
nature is that of a man of moderation, gentleness, and 
calmness, his whole endeavor that of a circumspect phi- 
losopher. He loves his people, but he does not relish their 
loud applause and thronging, nor does he think the man 
of safe discretion that affects it. He has a leaning to 
solitude, and plays the part of a friar perhaps even better 
than that of a statesman ; his earnest endeavor was always 
to know himself, but it also seemed a kind of necessity 
with him to know men and to test the instruments of his 
rule. This circumspect wisdom, never seeing things im- 

XXX 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Comments 

perfectly or from one point of view, shows itself also in 
his conduct respecting the morality or immorality of the 
people of Vienna, which by degrees had attained to such 
a height that the prince could no longer remain inactive. 
He is himself not of a sensual nature, but he does not, like 
Angelo, judge those who are so with unreasonable severity 
and strictness. In this mild spirit he has allowed those se- 
vere laws to slumber, but by this he has given free course 
to crime ; these fruits of his kindness rouse him into seeking 
a remedy. But even while he now has recourse to severity, 
he allows himself to be governed by the same two-sided 
consideration which is throughout peculiar to him ; he re- 
flects that it would be tyrannical in him if he, who by his 
lenit}^ had first given a free passage to sin, should all of a 
sudden turn to rigor. He therefore withdraws himself, 
and imposes on a deputy this office of making the change 
from the hitherto lax administration of justice to a new in- 
culcation of the old, neglected, and severe laws. — Geb- 
viNUs, Shakespeare Commentaries. 

CLAUDIO'S SIN 

With deliberate distinctness, which hasty reading must 
not be allowed to blur, Shakspere has set forth the circum- 
stances which bring this young man, who in Whetstone's 
version was an ordinary libertine, within the scope of the 
terrible statute. He had been contracted to Juliet, and 
had lived with her as his wife, though the outward form 
of marriage had been postponed, because Juliet's dowry 
remained in the coffer of her friends, whose favor had yet 
to be gained for the union. A contracted couple, from the 
Elizabethan point of view, were looked upon as joined in 
wedlock, and thus Claudio's sin was merely one in name. 
Moreover — and it is one of the dramatist's most subtle and 
original uses of parallelism — Claudio's relation to Juliet 
had been almost of a piece with that of Angelo to Mariana. 
But where the one had for wordly reasons left his already 
affianced bride in the lurch, the other with generous im- 



Comments MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

petuosity had preferred disregard of an outward form 
to heartless desertion. Thus Claudio's transgression is in 
itself most venial, and Angelo is the last man justified in 
visiting it with condign penalties. The humane Escalus 
pleads the mitigating effect of circumstances, the infirmity 
of human nature, the unsullied record of Claudio's house. 
He upholds that the true function of law is to cure, not 
to destroy, to "rather cut a little than fall and bruise to 
death." But Angelo is remorseless. He is the consum- 
mate type of the martinet official whose circle of vision is 
bounded by the narrow horizon of his department, who 
drives a code mercilessly through the delicately complex 
mechanism of society, and to whom the claims of red-tape 
are more sacred than those of human flesh and blood. The 
one imperious idea that the law must take its course fills 
his mind to the exclusion of all else, and Escalus' appeal 
is met with the dry, pitiless formula, "Sir, he must die." — 
Boas, Shakspere and his Predecessors. 

POMPEY 

Pompey, the Clown, is a copy from the life, so far as his 
original calling goes. One class of the domestic fool-jes- 
ter in our poet's time was a hireling attendant at the tav- 
erns and places of profligate resort in the suburbs of great 
towns. Here the dramatist, for his purposa, had to intro- 
duce such a personage ; and he has drawn him with all the 
bold strong colors required by the occasion. But he has 
given him humor, in a degree redeeming the coarseness ; 
and wit, that points the moral, while it helps to withdraw 
attention from the grosser details of the picture that he 
judged it needful to draw. 

The philosophy of making the Clown meet in the jail, 
imprisoned for debt, so many of the idle young men about 
town whom he had formerly encountered in haunts of dis- 
sipation, is sound doctrine, and sufficiently indicates the 
motive which induced the treating of so untoward a sub- 
ject. 

xxxii 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Comments 

There is one speech he makes — a sharp satire upon re- 
spectable iniquitous trades — which alone Kfts him into 
importance among the dramatis personce: — " 'Twas never 
merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest Avas put 
down, and the worser allowed, by order of law, a furr'd 
gown to keep him warm ; and furr'd with fox and lamb 
skins, too, to signify, that craft being richer than inno- 
cency, stands for the facing." — Clarke, Shakespeare- 
Characters. 

THE SCENE 

The city of Vienna is the scene of the play — it is repre- 
sented as a very sink of sensual defilement, corrupted and 
ravaged in every physical and moral quality, the conse- 
quence of the suspension, for fourteen years, of the activ- 
ity of most severe statutes framed to check the national 
tendency to grossness and license. The delineation of such 
a state, of course presents us with images and persons 
disgusting and contemptible in every sense ; and this is 
one great cause of the uncongenial effect of the entire 
play. The progress of public demoralization is rather ex- 
aggerated than relieved by the character of the reaction, 
to which it has conduced. Dissoluteness in one quarter is 
compensated by austerity equally in excess in another, and 
the pride of unblushing and ostentatious vice, is matched 
b}'^ equal parade of ostentatious virtue. The picture is 
a true one of the effect on morals, of laws or maxims too 
severe to be executed ; and the action of the play exhibits 
the farther disorder and complication resulting from the 
mere revival of unamended statutes, that had never be- 
come obsolete but for their need of amendment, and can 
scarcely have a better fate again. All the questions in- 
volved are brought to issue in the play, though it scarcely 
leaves assurance in conclusion, that the instructive experi- 
ence will have its full weight for the future. We are spec- 
tators of a receptacle of stagnant impurities in vehement 
ferment, and working through stages of decomposition, 
but the hope of ultimate purification is scarcely set forth 



Comments MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

so cheeringly as to compensate for the disagreeableness of 
what we witness, and to interest our sympathies in the re- 
sult. — Lloyd, Critical Essays. 

THE PECULIAR COLORING OF THE PLAY 

The reason that Measure for Measure enjoys so httle 
approbation — in spite of its wealth of profound thoughts 
and its life-like, sharply-delineated and well-developed 
characters (which are as important as they are original), 
and in spite also of its perfectly Shakespearean language 
and composition — does not, I think, lie so much in the 
subject-matter of the action, which is certainly repulsive 
and offensive to our more delicate, perhaps only the ef- 
feminate state of our feelings, as in the peculiar coloring 
of the piece. I mean to say it is a fault in the drama, 
that the pharisaism and the various vices which are con- 
trasted with it are exhibited in colors too glaring and in 
outlines too sharp, hence in an almost revolting manner; 
that, in the struggle with the enemy which it attacks, the 
drama becomes offensive, sharp, and bitter ; that it tries to 
arouse our disgust, and to engage our whole soul against 
this enemy, and thus, as it were, invites us to give our as- 
sistance in combating it, to engage in real action in or- 
dinary life, in place of raising us above the lattei into the 
ideal spheres of art. Perhaps this was Shakspeare's ob- 
ject; he may have written the piece or remodeled it subse- 
quently, with the express intention of arousing a spirit of 
sound, true morality in the nation in opposition to the 
Puritanical proceedings. But even though he had the 
most urgent occasion for so doing, from an artistic point 
of view, this tendency was a fault. The sharpness, the 
bitterness, the rousing of our feelings and the moral seri- 
ousness — which is pressed so much into the foreground and 
degenerates into prosaic moralizing — are so many offenses 
against the nature of poetry, and weaken the effect that art 
alone ought to produce. — Ulrici, Shakspeare's Dramatic 
Art. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Comments 



A PLAY OF CROSS-PURPOSES 

This is a play as full of genius as it is of wisdom. Yet 
there is an original sin in the nature of the subject, which 
prevents us from taking a cordial interest in it. "The 
height of moral argument" which the author has main- 
tained in the intervals of passion or blended with the more 
powerful impulses of nature, is hardly surpassed in any 
of his plays. But there is in general a want of passion ; 
the affections are at a stand ; our sympathies are repulsed 
and defeated in all directions. The only passion which in- 
fluences the story is that of Angelo ; and yet he seems to 
have a much greater passion for hypocrisy than for his 
mistress. Neither are we greatly enamored of Isabella's 
rigid chastit}"^, though she could not act otherwise than 
she did. We do not feel the same confidence in the virtue 
that is "sublimely good" at another's expense, as if it had 
been put to some less disinterested trial. As to the Duke, 
who makes a very imposing and mysterious stage-charac- 
ter, he is more absorbed in his own plots and gravity than 
anxious for the welfare of the state ; more tenacious of his 
own character than attentive to the feelings and apprehen- 
sions of others. Claudio is the only person who feels nat- 
urally ; and yet he is placed in circumstances of distress 
which almost preclude the wish for his deliverance. Mari- 
ana is also in love with Angelo, whom we hate. In this 
respect, there may be said to be a general system of cross- 
purposes between the feelings of the different char- 
acters and the sympathy of the reader or the audience. 
This principle of repugnance seems to have reached 
its height in the character of Master Barnardine, 
who not only sets at defiance the opinions of others, but 
has even thrown off all self-regard, — "one that apprehends 
death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep ; careless, 
reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, and to come." 
He is a fine antithesis to the morality and the hypocrisy 
of the other characters of the play. — Hazlitt, Characters 
of Shakespear''s Plays. 



Comments MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



AN IMPEACHMENT OF HYPOCRISY 

In this very unequally elaborated play, it is evident that 
Shakespeare cared only for the main point— the blow he 
was striking at hypocrisy. And it is probable that he here 
ventured as far as he by any means dared. It is a giant 
stride from the stingless satire on Puritanism in the char- 
acter of Malvolio to this representation of a Puritan like 
Angelo. Probably for this very reason, Shakespeare has 
tried in every way to shield himself. The subject is treated 
entirely as a comedy. There is a threat of executing first 
Claudio, then the humorous scoundrel Barnardine, whose 
head is to be delivered instead of Claudio's ; Barnardine is 
actually brought on the scene directly before execution, 
and the spectators sit in suspense ; but all ends well at last, 
and the head of a man already dead is sent to Angelo. A 
noble maiden is threatened with dishonor; but another 
woman, Mariana, who was worthy of a better fate, keeps 
tryst with Angelo in her stead, and this danger is over. 
Finally, threats of retribution close round Angelo, the 
villain, himself ; but after all he escapes unpunished, being 
merely obliged to marry the amiable girl whom he had at 
an earlier period deserted. In this way the play's terrible 
impeachment of hypocrisy is most carefully glozed over, 
and along with it the pessimism which animates the whole. 
— Beandes, William Shakespeare. 

THE LESSON OF THE PLAY 

There stands the Duke, the representative of a benev- 
olent and tolerant executive power which does not meddle 
with the people, — which subjects them to no harsh restric- 
tions, — which surrounds them with no biting penalties ; 
but which utterly fails in carrying out the essential prin- 
ciple of government when it disregards prevention, and 
sees no middle course between neglect and punishment. A 
new system is to be substituted; the laissez faire is to be 
succeeded by the "axe upon the block, very ready"; and 
xxxvi 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Comments 

then come all the commonplaces by which a reign of terror 
is to be defended: — 

"We must not make a scarecrow of the law. 
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey. 
And let it keep one shape, till custom make it 
Their perch, and not their terror." 

"The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept: 
Those many had not dar'd to do that evil. 
If the first that did the edict infringe 
Had answer'd for his deed; now, 't is awake." 

The philosophical poet sweeps these saws away with an 
indignation which is the more emphatic as coming from 
the mouth of the only truly moral character of the whole 
drama : — 

"Could great men thunder 

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet. 

For every pelting, petty officer. 

Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder." 

But he does more — he exhibits to us the every-day work- 
ing of the hot fit succeeding the cold of legislative and 
executive power. It works always with injustice. The 
Duke of the comedy is behind the scenes, and sees how it 
works. The weak governor resumes his authority, and 
with it he must resume his principles, and he therefore 
pardons all. The mouth-repenting deputy, and the callous 
ruffian, they each escape. We forget ; he does not pardon 
all; the prating coxcomb, who has spoken slander of his 
own person, is alone punished. Was this accident in the 
poet? Great crimes may be looked over by weak govern- 
ments, but the pettiest libeller of power is inevitably pun- 
ished. The catastrophe of this comedy necessarily leaves 
upon the mind an unsatisfactory impression. Had An- 
gelo been adequately punished it would have been more un- 
satisfactory. When the Duke took the management of 
the aff'air into his own hands, and averted the conse- 
quences of Angelo's evil intentions by a series of decep- 
tions, he threw away the power of punishing those evil in- 



Comments MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

tentions. We agree with Coleridge that the pardon and 
marriage of Angelo "baffle the strong indignation claims 
of justice"; but we cannot see how it could be otherwise. 
The poet, as it appears to us, exhibits to the end the in- 
adequacy of human laws to enforce public morals upon a 
system of punishment. But he has not forgotten to ex- 
hibit to us incidentally the most beautiful lessons of toler- 
ance ; not using Measure for Measure in the sense of the 
jus talionis, but in a higher spirit — that spirit which moves 
Isabella to supplicate for mercy towards him who had most 
wronged her: — 

"Most bounteous sir. 
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, 
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think, 
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds, 
A Till he did look on me; since it is so. 

Let him not die." 

— Knight, Pictorial Shakespeare. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

VisrcENTio, the Duke 
Angelo, Deputy 
EscALus, an ancient Lord 
CiAUDio, a young gentleman 
Lucio, a fantastic 
Two other gentlemen 
Provost 

Thomas, t , . . 
Peter, }t^o fnars 

A Justice 

Varrius 

Elbow, a simple constable 

Froth, a foolish gentleman 

PoMPEY, servant to Mistress Overdone 

Abhorsoit, an executioner 

Barkardine, a dissolute prisoner 

Isabella, sister to Olaudio 
Mariana, betrothed to Angela 
Juliet, beloved of Claudio 
Francisca, a nun 
Mistress Overdone, a bated 

Lords, Officers, Citizens, Boy, and Attendants 

Scene: Vienna 



SYNOPSIS 

By J. Elms Burdick 



Angelo, a man of Vienna who bears the reputation of 
a saint because of his strict and upright hfe, is chosen by 
Vincentio, Duke of that city, as his deputy in order that 
certain moral reforms may be introduced without lessening 
the popularity of the Duke. The latter announces that he 
intends to visit Poland, but instead of leaving the city, he 
disguises him.self as a friar and secretly watches Angelo. 
The first victim of the n^w rule is a young gentleman, 
Claudio, whose betrothed, Juliet, is with child by him. 
The deputy invokes an old law which had not been used in 
nineteen years, and for this offense sentences Claudio to be 
executed in three days. The same day on which this judg- 
ment is passed is the one on which Isabella, sister to Clau- 
dio, is to enter a cloister. On hearing of her brother's 
trouble, she determines to petition the deputy for his life. 



Isabella pleads in vain at her first audience with Angelo, 
but she arouses in him a passion which had always seemed 
foreign to his cold nature. At her second interview, he 
plainly tells her that she can buy her brother's safetA^ with 
her own honor. She refuses him and determines to tell her 
brother how her suit has failed, saying "better it were a 
brother died at once, than that a sister, by redeeming him, 
should die forever." 



Synopsis MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

ACT III 

She hastens to Claudio and exhorts him to prepare for 
death, since his life can only be purchased by perpetual 
shame. At first Claudio commends her decision, but his 
fear of death weakens him and he pleads with her to yield 
to Angelo and save him. Isabella reproaches him and is 
about to leave him when they are interrupted by the Duke 
in his friar's garb. He has overheard their entire conver- 
sation and he now shows Isabella a way of saving her 
brother without sacrificing her honor: she is to pretend to 
yield to the entreaties of Angelo, to make an assignation 
with him, and then to send in her place Mariana, a young 
gentlewoman who had been promised in marriage to 
Angelo and whom he had deserted on the loss of her dowry. 



Mariana consents to the enterprise. But Angelo does 
not keep his part of the agreement, for as soon as he has 
had his will with the supposed Isabella, he orders the im- 
mediate execution of Claudio. The provost of the prison 
on the disguised Duke's persuasion, sends to Angelo the 
head of another man who had just died a natural death in 
the prison and who resembled Claudio. The Duke then 
writes the deputy that he will soon return home. 



Angelo and the court officials meet the Duke at the 
city gates. Mariana and Isabella are also there, and the 
latter calls upon the Duke to redress her wrongs, openly 
accusing the deputy of being a virgin-violator and a mur- 
derer. In feigned anger the Duke orders her under ar- 
rest. Mariana now comes forward with her accusations. 
The Duke leaves the inquiry in Angelo's hand and he him- 
self retires to don his friar's habit that he may be called 
as a witness in the examination of the two women. Dur- 
ing the sessions, the Duke reveals himself. He orders 
4 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Synopsis 

Angelo to marry Mariana, and that being accomplished, 
he sentences the man to die. The pleading of Mariana 
and Isabella avert this penalty. Claudio is freed from his 
prison and ordered to marry Juliet. The Duke himself 
sues for Isabella's hand. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



ACT FIRST 

Scene I 

An apartment in the Duke's palace. 
Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords and Attendants. 

Duke. Escalus. 

Escal. My lord. 

Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, 
Would seem in me to affect speech and dis- 
course ; 
Since I am put to know that your own science 
Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice 
My strength can give you: then no more re- 
mains, 

But that to your sufficiency 

as your worth is able, 

8, 9. There is no gap in the Folios, which is due to Theobald's 
plausible theory that the obscurity of the passage is due to some 
careless omission on the part of the printers. Various attempts 
have been made to explain the lines, e. g. "But that to your suffi- 
ciencies your worth is abled" (Johnson) ; "But your sufficiency as 
worth is able" (Farmer) ; Theobald supplied the missing words 
thus — 

"But that to your sufficiency you add 
Due diligency as your xvorth is able." — I. G, 

7 



Act I. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

And let them work. The nature of our people, 
Our city's institutions, and the terms H 

For common justice, you 're as pregnant in 
As art and practice hath enriched any 
That we remember. There is our commission. 
From which we would not have you warp. Call 

hither, 
I say, bid come before us Angelo. 

[Ea^it an Attendant. 
What figure of us think you he will bear? 
For you must know, we have with special soul 
Elected him our absence to supply ; 
Lent him our terror, dress' d him with our 
love, 20 

And given his deputation all the organs 
Of our own power: what think you of it? 

Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth 

To undergo such ample grace and honor, 
It is Lord Angelo. 

Duke. Look where he comes. 

Mr Halliwell thinks to relieve the passage of darkness by printing 
task instead of that, — a correction which he found written by some 
unknown hand in an old copy of the play belonging to Mr. Tunno. 
But if we understand that as referring to the commission, which . 
the Duke holds in his hand, as he afterwards says, — "There is our 
commission,"— the passage, though still obscure, will appear com- 
plete as it stands. The meaning will then be, — "Since, then, your 
M'orth is ample, nothing is wanting to qualify you, to make you 
sufficient for the office, but this our commission, and let them, that 
is, the ability, which is in you, and the authority, which I confer 
upon you, work." — H. N. H. 

Tyrwhitt's 

But that to your sufficiency you put 
A zeal as willing as your worth is able, 

perhaps approaches Shakespeare's thought, though it certainly misspg 
bis expression, — C. H, H. 

8 



MEASURE FOE MEASURE Act 1. Sc. i. 
Enter Angela. 

Ang. Always obedient to your Grace's will, 
I come to know your pleasure. 

Duke. Angelo, 

There is a kind of character in thy life, 
That to th' observer doth thy history 
Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings 30 
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste 
Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. 
Heaven doth with us as we with torches do. 
Not light them for themselves; for if our vir- 
tues 
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely 

touch' d 
But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends 
The smallest scruple of her excellence. 
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
Herself the glory of a creditor, 40 

Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech 
To one that can my part in him advertise ; 
Hold therefore, Angelo: — 
In our remove be thou at full ourself ; 
Mortality and mercy in Vienna 
Live in thy tongue and heart : old Escalus, 

37. "nor . . . never"; two negatives, not making an affirmative, 
are common in Shakespeare's writings. So in JiiXius Ccesar: "Nor 
to no Roman else." — H. N. H. 

42. "advertise" ; that is, one that can himself set forth what per- 
tains to him is my substitute. — H. N. H. 

43. "Hold therefore, Angelo" j the Duke probably says these words 
on tendering commission to Angelo. — I, G. 

45. That is, I delegate to thy tongue the power of pronouncing 



Act I. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Though first in question, is thy secondary. 
Take thy commission. 

Ang. Now, good my lord, 

Let there be some more test made of my metal, 
Before so noble and so great a figure 50 

Be stamp'd upon it. 

Duke. No more evasion: 

We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice 
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honors. 
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition. 
That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd 
Matters of needful value. We shall write to 

you, 
As time and our concernings shall importune 
How it goes with us; and do look to know 
What doth befall you here. So, fare you well : 
To the hopeful execution do I leave you 60 
Of your commissions. 

Ang. Yet, give leave, my lord. 

That we may bring you something on the way. 

Duke. My haste may not admit it; 

Nor need you, on mine honor, have to do 
With any scruple ; your scope is as mine own. 
So to enforce or qualify the laws 
As to your soul seems good. Give me your 

hand: 
I '11 privily away. I love the people, 

sentence of death", and to thy heart the privilege of exercising 
mercy. — H. N. H, 

55. "unquestion'd" ; unexamined. — C. H. H. 

68-71. This passage has been conjectured to offer "a courtly 
apology for King James I's stately and ungracious demeanor on his 
entry into England."— C. H. H. 

10 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act i. Sc. ii. 

But do not like to stage me to their eyes : 
Though it do well, I do not relish well 70 

Their loud applause and Aves vehement; 
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion 
That does affect it. Once more, fare you well. 

Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes! 

Escal. Lead forth and bring you back in happi- 
ness! 

Duke. I thank you. Fare you well. [Emt. 

Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave 

To have free speech with you; and it concerns 

me 
To look into the bottom of my place : 
A power I have, but of what strength and na- 
ture 80 
I - am not yet instructed. 

Ang. 'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together. 
And we may soon our satisfaction have 
Touching that point. 

Escal. I '11 wait upon your honor. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene II 

A street. 

Enter Lucio and two Gentlemen. 

Lucio. If the Duke, with the other dukes, come 
not to composition with the King of Hun- 
gary, why then all the dukes fall upon the 
king. 

71. "Aves"; bailings.— H. N. H, 
11 



Act I. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

First Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not 
the King of Hungary's ! 

Sec. Gent. Amen. 

Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious 
pirate, that went to sea with the Ten Com- 
mandments, but scraped one out of the table. 10 

Sec. Gent. 'Thou shalt not steal'? 

Lucio. Aye, that he razed. 

First Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to 
command the captain and all the rest from 
their functions: they put forth to steal. 
There 's not a soldier of us all, that, in the 
thanksgiving before meat, do relish the pe- 
tition well that prays for peace. 

Sec. Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. 

Lucio. I believe thee; for I think thou never 20 
wast where grace was said. 

Sec. Gent. No? a dozen times at least. 

First Gent. What, in meter? 

Lucio. In any proportion or in any language. 

First Gent. I think, or in any religion. 

Lucio. Aye, why not? Grace is grace, despite 
of all controversy: as, for example, thou 
thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all 
grace. 

First Gent. Well, there went but a pair of 30 
shears between us. 

Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists 
and the velvet. Thou art the list. 

First Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art 

30. "There went but a pair of shears between us"; L e. "we are of 
one piece." — I. G. 

12 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act i. Sc. ii. 

good velvet ; thou 'rt a three-piled piece, I 
warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an 
English kersey, as be piled, as thou art piled, 
for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly 
now? 

Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with 40 
most painful feeling of thy speech : I will, 
out of thine own conf essioUj learn to begin 
thy health ; but, whilst I live, forget to drink 
after thee. 

First Gent. I think I have done myself wrong, 
have I not? 

Sec. Gent. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou 
art tainted or free. 

Lucio. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitiga- 
tion comes! I have purchased as many dis- 50 
eases under her roof as come to — 

Sec. Gent. To what, I pray? 

Lucio. Judge. 

Sec. Gent. To three thousand dolours a year. 

First Gent. Aye, and more. 

Lucio. A French crown more. 

First Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases 
in me; but thou art full of error; I am 
sound. 

Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy ; but 60 
so sound as things that are hollow : thy bones 
are hollow; impiety has made a feast of thecc 

Enter Mistress Overdone. 

59. "sound"; sounding (with a quibble).— C. H. H. 



13 



Act I. Sc. ii MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

First Gent. How now! which of your hips has 
the most profound sciatica? 

Mrs. Ov. Well, well ; there 's one yonder ar- 
rested and carried to prison was worth five 
thousand of you all. 

Sec. Gent. Who's that, I pray thee? 

Mrs. Ov. Marry, sir, that 's Claudio, Signior 
Claudio. 70 

First Gent. Claudio to prison? 'tis not so. 

Mrs. Ov; Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him 
arrested; saw him carried away; and, which 
is more, within these three days his head to 
be chopped off. 

LiUcio. But, after all this fooling, I would not 
have it so. Art thou sure of this ? 

Mrs. Ov. I am too sure of it : and it is for get- 
ting Madam Julietta with child. 

Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to 80 
meet me two hours since, and he was ever 
precise in promise-keeping. 

Sec. Gent. Besides, you know, it draws some- 
thing near to the speech we had to such a 
purpose. 

First Gent. But, most of all, agreeing with the 
proclamation. 

JLucio. Away ! let 's go learn the truth of it. 

[Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. 

Mrs. Ov. Thus, what with the war, what with 
the sweat, what with the gallows, and what 
with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. 

Enter Pompey. 

14) 



90 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act I. Sc\ ii. 

How now! what 's the news with you? 

Pom. Yonder man is carried to prison. 

Mrs. Ov. Well; what has he done? 

Pom. A woman. 

Mrs. Ov. But what 's his offense? 

Pom. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. 

Mrs. Ov. What, is there a maid with child by 
him? 

Pom. No, but there 's a woman with maid by 100 
him. You have not heard of the proclama- 
tion, have you? 

Mrs. Ov. What proclamation, man? 

Pom. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna mudt 
be plucked down. 

Mrs. Ov. And what shall become of those in the 
city? 

Pom. They shall stand for seed : they had gone 
down too, but that a wise burgher put in for 
them. 110 

Mrs. Ov. But shall all our houses of resort in 
the suburbs be pulled down? 

Pom. To the ground, mistress. 

Mrs. Ov. Why, here 's a change indeed in the 
commonwealth! What shall become of me? 

Pom. Come, fear not you : good counselors lack 
no clients: though you change your place, 
you need not change your trade ; I '11 be your 
tapster still. Courage! there will be pity 

111. In one of the Scotch Laws of James it is ordered, "that 
common women be put at the utmost endes of townes, queire least 
peril of fire is." — It is remarkable that the licensed houses of resort 
at Vienna are at this time all in the suburbs, under the permision 
of the Committee of Chastity.— H. N. H. 

15 



Act 1. Sc ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

taken on you : you that have worn your eyes 120 
almost out in the service, you will be consid- 
ered. 

Mrs. Ov. What 's to do here, Thomas tapster? 
let 's withdraw. 

Pom. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the 
provost to prison ; and there 's Madam 
Juliet. ' [Exeunt. 

Enter Provost, Claudio^ Juliet, and Officers. 

Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the 
world? 

Bear me to prison, where I am committed. 
Prov. I do it not in evil disposition, 130 

But from Lord Angelo by special charge. 
Claud. Thus can the demigod Authority 

Make us pay down for our offense by weight 

The words of heaven ; — on whom it will, it will ; 

On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just. 

Re-enter Lucio and two Gentlemen. 

Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes 

this restraint? 
Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty: 
As surfeit is the father of much fast, 

127. "provost" was anciently used for 'principal or president of any 
establishment. Here it means jailer. — H. N. H. 

134. Cp. St. Paul to the Romans ix. 15, 18: "For He saith to 
Moses, I will have mercy on ichom I toill have mercy," and again, 
"Therefore hath He mercy on tohom He will have mercy, and whom 
He will He hardeneth."- — I. G. 

135. "yet still 'tis just"; authority, being absolute in Angelo, is 
finely styled by Claudio the demigod, whose decrees are as little to 
be questioned as the words of Heaven. — H. N. H, 

16 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act I. Sc. ii. 

So every scope by the immoderate use 
Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, 140 
Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, 
A thirsty evil ; and when we drink we die. 

Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an 
arrest, I would send for certain of my credit- 
ors: and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief 
have the foppery of freedom as the morality 
of imprisonment. What's thy offense, 
Claudio ? 

Claud. What but to speak of would offend again. 

Lucio, What, is 't murder? 

Claud. No. 150 

Lucio. Lechery? 

Claud. Call it so. 

Pj'ov. Away, sir ! you must go. 

Claud. One word, good friend. Lucio, a word 
with you. 

Lucio. A hundred, if they '11 do you any good. 
Is lechery so look'd after? 

Claud. Thus stands it with me: upon a true con- 
tract 

I got possession of Julietta's bed : 
You know the lady ; she is fast my wife, 
Save that we do the denunciation lack 160 

Of outward order: this we came not to, 

143. "and when tve drink toe die"; so, in Chapman's Revenge for 
Honour : 

"Like poison'd rats, which, when they've swallowed 
The pleasing bane, rest not until they drink, 
And can rest then much less, until they burst." — H. N. H. 

146. "Morality"; the Folios misprint "mortality." — I. G. 



XXIII~2 



17 



Act I. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Only for propagation of a dower 
Remaining in the coffer of her friends ; 
From whom we thought it meet to hide our love 
Till time had made them for us. But it chances 
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment 
With character to gross is writ on Juliet. 

Lucio. With child, perhaps? 

Claud. Unhappily, even so. 

And the new Deputy now for the Duke, — 
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of new- 
ness, 170 
Or whether that the body public be 
A horse whereon the governor doth ride. 
Who, newly in the seat, that it may know 
He can command, lets it straight feel the spur; 
Whether the tyranny be in his place. 
Or in his eminence that fills it up, 
I stagger in : — ^but this new governor 
Awakes me all the enrolled penalties 
Which have, like unscour'd armor, hung by the 
wall 179 
So long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round. 
And none of them been worn ; and, for a name, 
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act 
Freshly on me : 'tis surely for a name. 

Lucio. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so 

162. "Propagation"; Folio 1 reads propagation, corrected in Folio 
2; prorogation, procuration, preservation, have been suggested by 
various editors, but the text as it stands is probably correct, though 
not altogether clear; "propagation"="incvea.se" ; perhaps the word 
implies "increase of interest," and "for propogation"=:"that she 
might continue to receive the interest, which was to be hers while 
she remained unmarried." — I. G. 

183. "for a name"; nominally, for form's sake. — C. H. H. 

18 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act i. Sc. ii. 

tickle on thy shoulders, that a milkmaid, if 
she be in love, may sigh it oiF. Send after 
the Duke, and appeal to him. 

Claud. I have done so, but he 's not to be found. 
I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service: 
This day niy sister should the cloister enter 190 
And there receive her approbation : 
Acquaint her with the danger of my state ; 
Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends 
To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him: 
I have great hope in that ; for in her youth 
There is a prone and speechless dialect, 
Such as move men ; beside, she hath prosperous 

art 
When she will play with reason and discourse. 
And well she can persuade. 

Lucio. I pray she may ; as well for the encour- 200 
agement of the like, which else would stand 
under grievous imposition, as for the enjoy- 
ing of thy life, who I would be sorry should 
be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. 
I '11 to her. 

Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. 

Lucio. Within two hours. 

Claud. Come, officer, away! [Eoceunt. 



13 E 19 



Act I. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Scene III 

A monastery. 
Enter Duke and Friar Thoynas. 

Duke. No, holy father; throw away that thought; 
Beheve not that the dribbhng dart of love 
Can pierce ?^ complete bosom. Why I desire 

thee 
To give me secret harbor, hath a purpose 
More grave and wrinkled than the aims and 

ends 
Of burning youth. 

Fri. T. May j^our grace speak of it? 

Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you 
How I have ever loved the life removed. 
And held in idle price to haunt assemblies 
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery 
keeps. 10 

I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo, 
A man of stricture and firm abstinence. 
My absolute power and place here in Vienna, 
And he supposes me travel'd to Poland ; 
For so I have strew'd it in the common ear. 
And so it is received. Now, pious sir, 
You will demand of me why I do this. 

2. "dribbling"; respecting the use of the term in archery, which 
Steevens thought could not be satisfactorily explained, Ascham says 
of one who, having learned to shoot well, neglects to practice with 
the bow, — "He shall become, of a fayre archer, a strake squyrter and 
dribber." — In the next line, "a complete bosom" is a bosom com- 
pletely armed. — H. N. H. 

20 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. i. Sc. m. 

Fri. T. Gladly, my lord. 

Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting 
laws, 1^ 

The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds, 
Which for this fourteen years we have let slip ; 
Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave. 
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond 

fathers. 
Having bound up the threatening twigs of 

birch, 
Only to stick it in their children's sight 
For terror, not to use, in time the rod 
Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our de- 
crees. 
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; 
And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; 
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart 30 
Goes all decorum. 
Fri. T. It rested in your Grace 

To unloose this tied-up justice when you 

pleased : 
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd 
Than in Lord Angelo. 
Duke. I do fear, too dreadful : 

Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, 
'T would be my tyranny to strike and gall them 
For what I bid them do : for we bid this be done, 
When evil deeds have their permissive pass, 

27. "becomes" ; this word, not in the original, but required alike by 
the sense and by the verse, was suggested by Davenant, and in- 
serted by Pope, and has since been universally received. — H. N. H. 



21 



Act I. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, 

my father, 
I have on Angelo imposed the office 40 

Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike 

home. 
And yet my nature never in the fight 
To do in slander. And to behold his sway, 
I will, as 'twere a brother of your order. 
Visit both prince and people: therefore, I 

prithee, 
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me 
How I may formally in person bear me 
Like a true friar. Moe reasons for this action 
At our more leisure shall I render you ; 
Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise; 50 

Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses 
That his blood flows, or that his appetite 
Is more to bread than stone : hence shall we see, 
If power change purpose, what our seemers be. 

lEcceunt. 

41. The words "ambush" and "strike home" show the image of a 
fiffht to have been in the Poet's mind. As tlie text stands, the 
speaker's purpose apparently is to avoid any open contest with 
crime, where his action would expose him to slander; not to let his 
person be seen in the fight, where he would have to work, to do, in 
the face of detraction and censure. — H. N. H. 

43. "To do in slander"; so the Folios; "me" and "it" have been 
suggested for "in" but no change is necessary; "do m"^'bring in, 
bring upon me." — I. G. 



22 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act i. Sc. iv. 



Scene IV 

A nunnery. 

Enter Isabella and Francisca. 

Isab. And have you nuns no farther privileges? 

Fran. Are not these large enough? 

Isdb. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; 

But rather wishing a more strict restraint 

Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint 
Clare. 
Lucio. \_Within']. Ho! Peace be in this place! 
Isab. Who 's that which calls? 

Fran. It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella, 

Turn you the key, and know his business of him ; 

You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn. 

When you have vow'd, you must not speak with 
men 10 

But in the presence of the prioress: 

Then, if you speak, you must not show your 
face; 

Or, if you show your face, you must not speak. 

He calls again ; I pray you, answer him. [Exit. 
Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is 't that calls? 

Enter Lucio. 

Lucio. Hail, Virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses 
Proclaim you are no less ! Can you so stead me 
As bring me to the sight of Isabella, 
A novice of this place, and the fair sister 
To her unhappy brother Claudio? 20 

23 



Act I. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Isab. Why, 'her unhappy brother' ? let me ask 

The rather, for I now must make you know 

I am that Isabella and his sister. 
Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets 
you: 

Not to be weary with you, he 's in prison. 
Isab. Woe me! for what? 

Lucio. For that which, if myself might be his 
judge, 

He should receive his punishment in thanks: 

He hath got his friend with child. 
Isab. Sir, make me not your story. 
Lucio. It is true. 30 

I would not — though 'tis my familiar sin 

With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest. 

Tongue far from heart — play with all virgins 
so: 

I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted; 

By your renouncement, an immortal spirit ; 

And to be talk'd with in sincerity, 

As with a saint. 
Isab. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me. 
Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis 
thus : — 

Your brother and his lover have embraced: 40 

As those that feed grow full, — as blossoming 
time, 

30. "make me not your story"; such is the reading of the original; 
the me being expletive, as in the well-known passage setting forth 
the virtues of sack: "It ascends me into the brain," &c. So that 
the meaning is, — "Make not your tale, invent not your fiction." 
Malone improved the passage thus: "Sir, mock me not, — your story"; 
which, surely, renders Lucio's reply, 'tis true, very unapt.-^H. N. H. 

24 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act I. Sc. iv. 

That from the seedness the bare fallow brings 
To teeming foison, — even so her plenteous 

womb 
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry. 

Isab. Some one with child by him? — My cousin 
Juliet? 

Lucio. Is she your cousin? 

Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their 
names 
By vain, though apt, affection. 

Lucio. She it is. 

Isab. O, let him marry her. 

Lucio. This is the point. 

The duke is very strangely gone from hence ; 50 
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, 
In hand, and hope of action : but we do learn 
By those that know the very nerves of state, 
His.givings-out were of an infinite distance 
From his true-meant design. Upon his place. 
And with full line of his authority. 
Governs Lord Angelo; a man whose blood 
Is very snow-broth ; one who never feels 
The wanton stings and motions of the sense, 
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge 60 
With profits of the mind, study and fast. 
He — to give fear to use and liberty, 

51. "bore . . . in hand"; "To bear in hand," says Richardson, 
"is merely to carry along with us, to lead along, as suitors, de- 
pendants, expectants, believers." The phrase is not uncommon in 
old writers. Thus, in S Henry IV, Act. i. sc. 2: "A rascally yea- 
forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon 
security !"—H. N. H. 

62. That is, to put the restraint of fear upon licentious custom 
and abused freedom. — H. N. H. 

25 



Act I. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Which have for long run by the hideous law, 
As mice by lions — hath pick'd out an act. 
Under whose heavy sense your brother's life 
Falls into forfeit : he arrests him on it ; 
And follows close the rigor of the statute, 
To make him an example. All hope is gone, 
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer 
To soften Angelo : and that 's my pith of busi- 
ness '^0 
'Twixt you and your poor brother. 

Isah. I>oth he so seek his life? 

Lucio. Has censured him 

Already ; and, as I hear, the provost hath 
A warrant for his execution. 

Isab. Alas! what poor ability 's in me 
To do him good? 

Lucio. Assay the power you have. 

Isab. My power? Alas, I doubt, — 

Lucio. Our doubts are traitors, 

And make us lose the good we oft might win 
By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo, 
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue. 
Men give like gods; but when they weep and 
kneel, 81 

All their petitions are as freely theirs 
As they themselves would owe them. 

Isab. I '11 see what I can do. 

Lucio. But speedily. 

Isab. I will about it straight; 

No longer staying but to give the Mother 

83. As if they themselves owned the petitions, *, e, had the grant- 
ing of then^ in their own hands.— C. H. H. 
26 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act I. Sc. iv. 

Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : 
Commend me to my brother : soon at night 
I '11 send him certain word of my success. 

Lucio. I take my leave of you. 

Isab. Good sir, adieu. 90 

[EiVeunt. 

89. "my success"; the issue of my suit. — C. H. H. 



27 



Act 11. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



ACT SECOND 

Scene I 

A hall in Angela's house. 

Enter Angelo, Escalus, and a Justice, Provost, 
Officers, and other Attendants, behind. 

Ang. We must not make a scarecrow of the law, 
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, 
And let it keep one shape, till custom make it 
Their perch, and not their terror. 

Escal. Aye, but yet 

Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, 
Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas, this gen- 
tleman. 
Whom I would save, had a most noble father! 
Let but your honor know, 

Whom I believe to be most straight in virtue, 
That, in the working of your own aif ections, 10 
Had time cohered with place or place with wish- 
ing, 
Or that the resolute acting of your blood 

6. "fall"; that is, throw down; to fall a tree is still used for to fell 
it.— H. N. H. 

To complete the sense of this line for seems to be required, — 
''which now you censure him for." But Shakespeare frequently 
uses ellipticwl expressions. — H. N. H. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act li. Sc. i. 

Could have attain' d the eifect of your own 

purpose, 
Whether you had not sometime in your hf e 
Err'd in this point which now you censure him, 
And puU'd the law upon you. 

Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, 
Another thing to fall. I not deny. 
The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, 
May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two 20 
Guiltier than him they try. What 's open 

made to justice. 
That justice seizes: what know the laws 
That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very 

pregnant. 
The jewel that we find, we stoop and take 't. 
Because we see it; but what we do not see 
We tread upon, and never think of it. 
You may not so extenuate his offense 
For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, 
When I, that censure him, do so offend, 29 

Let mine own judgment pattern out my death. 
And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die. 

Escal. Be it as your wisdom will. 

Ang. Where is the provost? 

Prov. Here, if it like your honor. 

Ang. See that Claudio 

Be executed by nine to-morrow morning: 
Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared ; 

28. "for"; that is, because.— H. N. H. 

30. Let mv death-sentence on him be applied to my own case.— 
C. H. H. 

29 



Act n. sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

For that 's the utmost of his pilgrimage. 

lEwit Provost 

Escal, [Aside] Well, heaven forgive him! and 

forgive us all! 

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: 

Some run from breaks of ice, and answer none ; 

And some condemned for a fault alone. 40 

Enter Elbow, and Q-fficers with Froth and Pompey, 

Elb. Come, bring them away : if these be good 
people in a commonweal that do nothing but 
use their abuses in common houses, I know 
no law : bring them away. 

Ang. How now, sir! What 's your name? and 
what 's the matter? 

39. "Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none"; the line 
as it stands in the Folios is obviously corrupt, and has occasioned 
much discussion. Shakespeare probably wrote "brakes of vice"j 
6raA;e* = thickets, hence "entanglements"; "brakes of vice" is anti- 
thetical to "a fault alone" cp, Henry VIII, I. ii. 75 — 
"the rough brake 
That virtue must go through" 
The line therefore means "some escape from whole thickets of sin, 
and pay no penalty/' Judging by the passage in Henry VIII, 
through for from would perhaps be an improvement. — I. G. 

The original here reads, — "Some run from brakes of ice"; which 
Mr. Collier retains, silently changing brakes into breaks. It can 
hardly be denied that this reading yields very good sense; the 
image of course being that of men making good their escape, even 
when the ice is breaking under them. But brakes and ice do not 
quite cohere; and it seems as proper to change ice into vice, as 
brakes into breaks; and, as the former accords better with the rest 
of the passage, we venture to accept it. It was first made by Rowe. 
But there is a further question, whether brake, allowing that to be 
the right word, here means an engine of war or torture, or a snare, 
or a bramble; the word being used in all these senses. Which of 
these senses the word bears in the text, we must leave the reader to 
decide for himself.— H. N. H. 

43. "common hotises"; houses of ill-fame. — C. H. H. 
30 



50 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act li. Sc. i. 

JEW. If it please your honor, I am the poor 
Duke's constable, and my name is Elbow: 
I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring in 
here before your good honor two notorious 
benefactors. 

Ang. Benefactors? Well; what benefactors 
are they? are they not malefactors? 

Elb. If it please your honor, I know not well 
what they are: but precise villains they are, 
that I am sure of ; and void of all profanation 
in the world that good Christians ought to 
have. 

Escal. This comes off well; here's a wise 
officer. 60 

Ang. Go to: what quality are they of ? Elbow 
is your name? why dost thou not speak, 
Elbow ! 

Pom. He cannot, sir ; he 's out at elbow. 

Ang. What are you, sir? 

Elb. He, sir! a tapster, sir; parcel-bawd; one 
that serves a bad woman; whose house, sir, 
was, as they say, plucked down in the sub- 
urbs; and now she professes a hot-house, 
which, I think, is a very ill house too. 70 

Escal. How know you that? 

Elb. My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven 
and your honor, — 

Escal. How? thy wife? 

Elb. Aye, sir; — ^whom, I thank heaven, is an 
honest woman, — 

47. "the poor duke's constable"; for "the duke's poor constable." — 
C. H. H. 

31 



Act 11. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Escal. Dost thou detest her therefore? 

Elh. I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well 
as she, that this house, if it be not a bawd's 
house, it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty 80 
house. 

Escal. How dost thou know that, constable? 

Elh. Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had 
been a woman cardinally given, might have 
been accused in fornication, adultery, and all 
uncleanliness there. 

Escal. By the woman's means? 

Elh. Aye, sir, by Mistress Overdone's means: 
but as she spit in his face, so she defied him. 

Pom. Sir, if it please your honor, this is not so. 90 

Elh. Prove it before these varlets here, thou 
honorable man; prove it. 

Escal. Do you hear how he misplaces ? 

Pom. Sir, she came in great with child; and 
longing, saving your honor's reverence, for 
stewed prunes; sir, we had but two in the 
house, which at that very distant time stood, 
as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some 
three pence; your honors have seen such 
dishes ; they are not China dishes, but very 100 
good dishes, — 

Escal. Go to, go to : no matter for the dish, sir. 

Pom. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are 
therein in the right : but to the point. As I 
say, this Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, 
with child, and being great-bellied, and 

97. "distant"; the Clown, catching the constable's trick of speech, 
here uses distant as an Elbowism for instant. — H. N. H. 
32 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc. i. 

longing, as I said, for prunes; and having 
but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth 
here, this very man, having eaten the rest, 
as I said, and, as I say, paying for them HO 
very honestlj'-; for, as you know. Master 
Froth, I could not give you three-pence 
again. 

Froth. No, indeed. 

Pom. Very well ; — you being then, if you be re- 
membered, cracking the stones of the fore- 
said prunes, — 

Froth. Aye, so I did indeed. 

Pom. Why, very well; I telling you then, if 
you be remembered, that such a one and such 120 
a one were past cure of the thing you wot of, 
unless they kept very good diet, as I told 
you,— 

Froth. All this is true. 

Pom. Why, very well, then, — 

Escal. Come, you are a tedious fool : to the pur- 
pose. What was done to Elbow's wife, that 
he hath cause to complain of ? Come me to 
what was done to her. 

Pom. Sir, your honor cannot come to that yet. 130 

Escal. No, sir, nor I mean it not. 

Pom. Sir, but. you shall come to it, by your 
honor's leave. And, I beseech you, look in- 
to Master Froth here, sir; a man of four- 
score pound a year; whose father died at 
Hallowmas : — was 't not at Hallowmas, 
Master Froth?— 

XXIII— 3 33 



Act 11. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Froth. All-hallond eve. 

Pom. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. 
He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir ; 140 
'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, in- 
deed, you have a delight to sit, have you not? 

Froth. I have so; because it is an open room, 
and good for winter. 

Pom. Why, very well, then; I hope here be 
truths. 

Ang. This will last out a night in Russia, 

When nights are longest there : I '11 take my 

leave, 
And leave you to the hearing of the cause ; 149 
Hoping you '11 find good cause to whip them all. 

Escal. I think no less. Good morrow to your 
lordship. [Ea^it Angelo. 

Now, sir, come on; what was done to El- 
bow's wife, once more? 

Pom. Once, sir? there was nothing done to her 
once. 

Elh. I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man 
did to my wife. 

Pom. I beseech your honor, ask me. 

Escal. Well, sir ; what did this gentleman to 160 
her? 

Pom. I beseech you, sir, look in this gentle- 
man's face. Good Master Froth, look up- 
on his honor ; 'tis for a good purpose. Doth 
your honor mark his face? 

138. "All-Hallownd Eve"; the Eve of All Saint's day.— H. N. H. 
143. "An open room"; Schmidt, "public room"; perhaps it means 
"open to sun, light, cheerful." — I. G. 

34 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act II. Sc. i. 

Escal. Aye, sir, very well. 

Pom. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well. 

Escal. Well, I do so. 

Pom. Doth your honor see any harm in his 
face? 170 

Escal. Why, no. 

Pom. I' '11 be supposed upon a book, his face is 
the worst thing about him. Good, then; if 
his face be the worst thing about him, how 
could Master Froth do the constable's wife 
any harm? I would know that of your 
honor. 

Escal. He 's in the right. Constable, what say 
you to it? 

Elb. First, an it like you, the house is a respect- 180 
ed house; next, this is a respected fellow; 
and his mistress is a respected woman. 

Pom. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more re- 
spected person than any of us all. 

Elb. Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet! 
the time is yet to come that she was ever re- 
spected with man, woman, or child. 

Pom. Sir, she was respected with him before 
he married with her. 

Escal. Which is the wiser here ? Justice or 190 
Iniquity? Is this true? 

Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou 
wicked Hannibal ! I respected with her be- 
fore I was married to her ! If ever I was re- 
spected with her, or she with me, let not your 
worship think me the poor Duke's officer. 

172. "supposed"; deposed; I will take my oath. — C. H. H. 
35 



Act 11. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or I '11 
have mine action of battery on thee. 

Escal. If he took you a box o' th' ear, you 
might have your action of slander too. 200 

Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it. 
What is 't your worship's pleasure I shall 
do with this wicked caitiff ? 

Escal. Truly, officer, because he hath some 
offenses in him that thou wouldst discover 
if thou couldst, let him continue in his 
courses till thou knowest what they are. 

Elh. Marry, I thank your worship for it. 
Thou seest, thou wicked varlet, now, what 's 
come upon thee: thou art to continue now^210 
thou varlet; thou art to continue. 

Escal. Where were you born, friend? 

Froth. Here in Vienna, sir. 

Escal, Are you of fourscore pounds a year? 

Froth. Yes, an 't please you, sir. 

Escal. So. What trade are you of, sir? 

Pom. A tapster; a poor widow's tapster. 

Escal. Your mistress' name? 

Pom. Mistress Overdone. 

Escal. Hath she had any more than one hus- 220 
band? 

Pom. Nine, sir ; Overdone by the last. 

Escal. Nine! Come hither to me, Master 
Froth. Master Froth, I would not have 
you acquainted with tapsters: they will 
draw you. Master Froth, and you will hang 
them. Get you gone, and let me hear no 
more of you. 

36 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc.i. 

Froth. I thank your worship. For mine own 
part, I never come into any room in a tap- 230 
house, but I am drawn in. 

Escal. Well, no more of it, Master Froth : fare- 
well. [Ea.it Froth.'] Come you hither to 
me, Master tapster. What 's your name 
Master tapster? 

Pom. Pompey. 

Escal What else? 

Pom. Bum, sir. 

Escal. Troth, and your bum is the greatest 
thing about you ; so that, in the beastliest 240 
sense, jo\x are Pompey the Great. Pom- 
pey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, how- 
soever you color it in being a tapster, are you 
not ? come, tell me true : it shall be the better 
for you. 

Pom. Truly sir, I am a poor fellow that would 
live. 

Escal. How would you live, Pompey ? by being 
a bawd? What do you think of the trade, 
Pompey? is it a lawful trade? 250 

Pom. If the law would allow it, sir. 

Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey; 
nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna. 

Pom. Does your worship mean to geld and 
splay all the youth of the city? 

Escal. No, Pompey. 

Pom. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will 
to 't, then. If your worship will take or- 

239. The breeches were formerly worn very large about the hips, 
and perhaps Pompey went beyond the fashion. — H, N. H. 

37 



Act 11. sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

der for the drabs and the knaves, you need 
not to fear the bawds. 260 

Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I 
can tell you : it is but heading and hanging. 

Pom. If you head and hang all that offend 
that way but for ten year together, you '11 be 
glad to give out a commission for more 
heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten year, 
I '11 rent the fairest house in it after three- 
pence a bay: if you live to see this come to 
pass, say Pompey told you so. 

Escal. Thank you, good Pompey ; and, in re- 270 
quital of your prophecy, hark you: I advise 
you, let me not find you before me again 
upon any complaint whatsoever; no, not for 
dwelling where you do : if I do, Pompey, I 
shall beat you to your tent, and prove a 
shrewd Csesar to you ; in plain dealing, Pom- 
pey, I shall have you whipt : so, for this time, 
Pompey, fare you well. 

Pom. I thank your worship for your good 
counsel: lAside~\ but I shall follow it as the 280 
flesh and fortune shall better determine. 
Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade: 
The valiant heart 's not whipt out of his trade. 

[Ea^it. 

Escal. Come hither to me, Master Elbow ; come 
hither. Master constable. How long have 
you been in this place of constable? 

Elb. Seven year and a half, sir. 

Escal. I thought, by your readiness in the office. 



38 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc. i. 

you had continued in it some time. You , 

say, seven years together? 290 

Elb. And a half, sir. 
Escal. Alas, it hath been great pains to you. 

They do you wrong to put you so oft 

upon 't : are there not men in your ward 

sufficient to serve it? 
Elb. Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters: 

as they are chosen, they are glad to choose 

me for them; I do it for some piece of 

money, and go through with all. 
Escal. Look you bring me in the names of some 300 

six or seven, the most sufficient of your 

parish. 
Elb. To your worship's house, sir? 
Escal. To my house. Fare you well. 

[Exit Elbow.} 

What 's o'clock, think you? 
Just. Eleven, sir. 

Escal. I pray you home to dinner with me. 
Just. I humbly thank you. 
Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio ; 

But there 's no remedy. 310 

Just. Lord Angelo is severe. 
Escal. It is but needful: 

Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; 

Pardon is still the nurse of second woe : 

But yet, — poor Claudio! There is no remedy. 

Come, sir. [Exeunt. 



Act II. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Scene II 

Another room in the same. 
Enter Provost and a Servant. 

Serv. He 's hearing of a cause ; he will come 
straight : 
I '11 tell him of you. 
Pi^ov. Pray you, do. [Eooit Servant. ~[ 

I '11 know 
His pleasure ; may be he will relent. Alas, 
He hath but as offended in a dream! 
All sects, all ages smack of this vice ; and he 
To die for 't! 

Enter Angela. 

Ang. Now, what 's the matter, provost? 

Prov. Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow? 

Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order? 

Why dost thou ask again? 
Prov. Lest I might be too rash : 

Under your good correction, I have seen, 10 

When, after execution. Judgment hath 

Repented o'er his doom. 
Ang. Go to ; let that be mine : 

Do you your office, or give up your place, 

And you shall well be spared. 
Prov. I crave your honor's pardon. 

What shall be done, sir, with the groaning 
Juliet? 

She 's very near her hour. 
Ang. Dispose of her 

To some more fitter place, and that with speed. 

40 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. ii. Sc. ii. 

Re-enter Servant. 

Serv. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd 

Desires access to you. 
Ang. Hath he a sister? 

Prov. Aye, my good Lord ; a very virtuous maid, 20 

And to be shortty of a sitserhood, 

If not ah'eady. 
Ang. Well, let her be admitted. [Ej^jH Servant. 

See you the fornicatress be removed: 

Let her have needful, but not lavish, means ; 

There shall be order for 't. 

Enter Isabella and Lucio. 
Prov. God save your honor! 

Ang. Stay a little while. [To Isab.'] You 're wel- 
come: 

What 's your will? 
Isah. I am a woeful suitor to your honor, 

Please but your honor hear me. 
Ang. Well; what 's your suit? 

Isah. There is a vice that most I do abhor, 

And most desire should meet the blow of jus- 
tice; 30 
For which I would not plead, but that I must ; 
For which I must not plead, but that I am 
At war 'twixt will and will not. 
Ang. Well ; the matter ? 
Isah. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: 
I do beseech you, let it be his fault. 
And not my brother. 
Prov. [Aside^ Heaven give thee moving graces! 

35. That is, let my brother's fault die, but let not him suffer. — 
H. N. H. 

41 



Act II. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? 
Why, every fault 's condemn'd ere it be done : 
Mine were the very cipher of a function. 
To fine the faults whose fine stands in record, 
And let go by the actor. 41 

I sab. O just but severe law! 

I had a brother, then. — Heaven keep your 
honor ! 

Lucio. [Aside to Isab.'] Give 't not o'er so: to him 
again, entreat him ; 
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown : 
You are too cold; if you should need a pin. 
You could not with more tame a tongue desire 

it: 
To him, I say! 

Isah. Must he needs die? 

Ang. Maiden, no remedy. 

Isab. Yes ; I do think that you might pardon him. 
And neither heaven nor man grieve at the 
mercy. 50 

Ang. I will not do 't. 

Isab. But can you, if you would? 

Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. 

Isab. But might you do 't, and do the world no 
wrong. 
If so your heart were touch'd with that re- 
morse 
As mine is to him? 

Ang. He 's sentenced ; 'tis too late. 

Lucio. \_Aside to Isab.'] You are too cold. 

40. That is, "to pronounce the fine or sentence of the law upon 
the crime, and let the delinqnent escape." — H. N. H. 

42 ' 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. Ii. Sc. ii. 

Isah. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word, 
May call it back again. Well, believe this, 
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, 59 

Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword. 
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, 
Become them with one half so good a grace 
As mercy does. 

If he had been as you, and you as he, 
You would have slipt like him ; but he, like you, 
Would not have been so stern. 

Ang. Pray you, be gone. 

Isah, I would to heaven I had your potency. 
And you were Isabel! should it then be thus? 
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge. 
And what a prisoner. 

Lucio. [Aside to Isah.l Aye, touch him; there's 
the vein. 70 

Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law. 
And you but waste your words. 

Isah. Alas, alas! 

Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; 
And He that might the vantage best have took 
Found out the remedy. How would you be. 
If He, which is the top of judgment, should 
But judge you as you are? O, think on that; 
And mercy then will breathe within your lips. 
Like man new made. 

79. "Like man new made"; commentators are strongly tempted to 
refer the words to "new made man," i. e. Adam; Holt White para- 
phrased thus: — "And you, Angelo, will breathe new life into Claudio, 
as the Creator animated Adam, by breathing into his nostrils the 
breath of life." Malone explains: — "You will then appear as tender- 
hearted and merciful as the first man was in his days of innocence> 

43 



Act II. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Ang. Be you content, fair maid; 

It is the law, not I condemn your brother: 80 
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, 
It should be thus with him: he must die to- 
morrow. 
Isab. To-morrow ! O, that 's sudden ! Spare him, 
spare him! 
He 's not prepared for death. Even for our 

kitchens 
We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve 

heaven 
With less respect than we do minister 
To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, be- 
think j^ou; 
Who is it that hath died for this offense? 
There 's many have committed it. 
Lucio. [Aside to Isab.~\ Aye, well said. 

Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath 
■ slept: 90 

Those many had not dared to do that evil. 
If the first that did the edict infringe 
Had answer'd for his deed: now 'tis awake. 
Takes note of what is done ; and, like a prophet. 
Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils, 
Either now, or by remissness new-conceived, 

immediately after liis creation." Schmidt and others, "like man re- 
deemed and regenerated by divine grace." The lines are perhaps 
capable of this interpretation: — And mercy will breathe within your 
lips, even as Mercy {i. e. God) breathed within the lips of a new 
made man. — I. G. 

90. "Dormiunt aliquando leges, moriuntur nunquam," is a well- 
known maxim in law (Holt White). — I. G. 

95. This alludes to the deceptions of the fortune-tellers, who pre- 
tended to see future events in a beryl, or crystal glass. — H. N. H, 

96. "either"; (monosyllabic).— C. H. H. 

44 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. ii. Sc. ii. 

And so in progress to be hatch' d and born, 
Are now to have no successive degrees. 
But, ere they hve, to end. 

Isdb. Yet show some pity. 

Ang. I show it most of all when I show justice; 100 
For then I pity those I do not know, 
Which a dismiss 'd offense would after gall ; 
And do him right that, answering one foul 

wrong, 
Lives not to act another. Be satisfied; 
Your brother dies to-morrow; be content. 

Isab. So you must be the first that gives this sen- 
tence. 
And he, that suffers. O, it is excellent 
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous 
To use it like a giant. 

Lucio. l^Aside to Isah.~\ That 's well said. 

Isab. Could great men thunder HO 

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet. 
For every pelting, petty officer 
Would use his heaven for thunder. 
Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven, 
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt 
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak 
Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man, 
Drest in a little brief authority. 
Most ignorant of what he 's most assured. 
His glassy essence, like an angry ape, 120 

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven 

99-102. One of Judge Hale's Memorials is of the same tendency: 
"When I find mj^self swayed to mercy, let me remember that there 
is a mercy likewise due to the country." — H. N. H. 

45 



Act 11. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

As make the angels weep ; who, with our spleens, 

Would all themselves laugh mortal. 
Lucio. [Aside to Isab.~\ O, to him, to him, wench!- 
he will relent ; 

He 's coming ; I perceive 't. 
Prov. [Aside] Pray heaven she win him! 

Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself : 

Great men may jest with saints ; 'tis wit in them, 

But in the less foul profanation. 
Lucio. Thou 'rt i' the right, girl ; more o' that. 
Isab. That in the captain 's but a choleric word, ^30 

Which in the soldier is fiat blasphemy. 
Lucio. [Aside to Isab.] Art avised o' that? more 

on't. 
Aug. Why do you put these sayings upon me? 
Isab. Because authority, though it err like others. 

Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, 

That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your 
bosom ; 

Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth 
know 

That 's like my brother's fault : if it confess 

A natural guiltiness such as is his. 

Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue 140 

122. The notion of angels weeping for the sins of men is rabbinical. 
By spleens Shakespeare meant that peculiar turn of the human 
mind, which always inclines it to a spiteful and unseasonable mirth. 
Had the angels that, they would laugh themselves out of their im- 
mortality, by indulging a passion unworthy of that prerogative. — 
H. N. H. 

"spleens"; the spleen was regarded as the organ of mirth as 
well as ill-humor. — C. H. H. 

136. "skins"; covers with a skin. — C. H. H. 

Shakespeare has used this indelicate metaphor again in Hamlet: 
"It will but skin and film the ulcerous place." — H. N. H. 
46 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. IL Sc. ii. 

Against my brother's life. 

Ang. [^Aside] She speaks, and 'tis 

Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare 
you well. 

Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back. 

Ang. I will bethink me: come again to-morrow. 

Isab, Hark how I '11 bribe you : good my lord, 
turn back. 

Ang. How? bribe me? 

Isab. Aye, with such gifts that heaven shall share 
with you. 

Lucio. [Aside to Isab.l You had marr'd all else. 

Isab. Not with fond sides of the tested gold, 

Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor 150 
As fancy values them ; but with true prayers 
That shall be up at heaven and enter there 
Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls, 
From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate 
To nothing temporal. 

Ang. Well; come to me to-morrow. 

Lucio. [Aside to Isab.^ Go to; 'tis well; away! 

Isab. Heaven keep your honor safe! 

Ang. [Aside] Amen: 

For I am that way going to temptation. 
Where prayers cross. 

Isab. At what hour to-morrow 

Shall I attend your worship? 

157. Isabella prays that his honor may be safe, meaning only to 
give him his title: his mind is caught by the word honor, he feels 
that it is in danger, and therefore says amen to her benediction.— 
H. N. H. 

159. "Where prayers cross," i. e. where his prayer to possess 
Isabella crosses with hers, "Heaven keep your honor safe!" — I. G. 

The petition of the Lord's Prayer, "Lead us not into temptation," 
47 



Act II. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Ang. At any time 'fore noon. 160 

Isab. 'Save your honor! 

[Exeunt Isabella, Lucio, and Provost. 

Ang. From thee, — even from thy virtue! 

What 's this, what 's this? Is this her fault or 

mine? 
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? 
Ha! 

Not she ; nor doth she tempt : but it is I 
That, lying by the violet in the sun, 
Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, 
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be 
That modesty may more betray our sense 
Than woman's lightness? Having waste 
ground enough, 170 

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary, 
And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie! 
What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? 
Dost thou desire her foully for those things 
That make her good? O, let her brother live: 
Thieves for their robbery have authority 
When judges steal themselves. What, do I 

love her. 
That I desire to hear her speak again, 

is here considered as crossing or intercepting the way in which 
Angelo was going: he was exposing himself to temptation by the 
appointment for the morrow's meeting. — H. N. H. 

170. No language could more forcibly express the aggravated 
profligacy of Angelo's passion, which the purity of Isabella but 
served the more to inflame. The desecration of edifices devoted to 
religion, by converting them to the most abject purposes of nature, 
was an eastern method of expressing contempt. See 2 Kings x. 27. 
— H. N. H. 



48 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act II. Sc. iii. 

And feast upon her eyes? What is 't I dream 

on? 
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, 180 
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dan- 
gerous 
Is that temptation that doth goad us on 
To sin in loving virtue: never could the 

strumpet, 
With all her double vigor, art and nature. 
Once stir my temper ; but this virtuous maid 
Subdues me quite. Ever till now. 
When men were fond, I smiled, and wonder'd 
how. [Exit. 



Scene III 

A room in a prison. 

Enter, severally, Duke disguised as a friar, and 
Provost. 

Duke. Hail to you, provost ! so I think you are. 

Prov. I am the provost. What 's your will, good 
friar? 

Duke. Bound by my charity and my blest order, 
I come to visit the afflicted spirits 
Here in the prison. Do me the common Tight 
To let me see them, and to make me know 
The nature of their crimes, that I may minister 
To them accordingly. 

Prov. I would do more than that, if more were 
needful 

XXIII— 4 49 



Act 11. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 
Enter Juliet. 

Look, here comes one : a gentlewoman of mine, 

Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth, H 

Hath blister'd her report: she is with child; 

And he that got it, sentenced ; a young man 

More fit to do another such offense 

Than die for this. 
Duke. When must he die? 
Prov. As I do think, to-morrow. 

I have provided for you : stay awhile, [To Juliet. 

And you shall be conducted. 
Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry? 
Jul. I do ; and bear the shame most patiently. 20 
Duke. I '11 teach you how you shall arraign your 
conscience. 

And try your penitence, if it be sound, 

Or hollowly put on. 
Jul. I '11 gladly learn. 

Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you? 
Jul. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him. 
Duke. So, then, it seems your most ofFenseful act 

Was mutually committed? 
Jul. Mutually. 

Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. 
Jul. I do confess it, and repent it, father. 
Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter: but lest you do re- 
pent, 30 

10. "gentlewoman"; (trisyllabic). — C. H. H. 

11. "The flaics of her own youth"; possibly Warburton's correc- 
tion "flames" should be adopted; cp. 

"To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, 
And melt in her own fire" (Hamlet, III. iv. 84). — I. G. 

50 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act li. Sc. iv. 

As that the sin hath brought j^ou to this shame, 

Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not 
heaven, 

Showing we would not spare heaven as we love 
it. 

But as we stand in fear, — 
Jul. I do repent me, as it is an evil. 

And take the shame with joy. 
Duke. There rest. 

Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow, 

And I am going with instruction to him. 

Grace go with you, BenecUcite! [Exit. 

Jul. Must die to-morrow! O injurious love, 40 

That respites me a life, whose very comfort 

Is still a dying horror! 
Prov. 'Tis pity of him. [Exeunt. 



Scene IV 

A room in Angelo's house. 
Enter Angelo. 

Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and 

pray 
To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty 

words ; 
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue. 
Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth, 

36. "rest"; that is, keep yourself in this frame of mind. — H. N. H. 

40. "O injurious love" (Folios "loue"); Hanmer's suggestion, 
"law" for "loue" has been generally accepted; the law respited her 
"a life whose very comfort" was "a dying horror." — I. G. 
14 E 51 



Act 11. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURK 

As if I did but only chew his name ; 

And in my heart the strong and swelHng evil 

Of my conception. The state, whereon I 

studied, 
Is like a good thing, being often read, 
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity, 
Wherein — let no man hear me — I take pride, 10 
Could I with boot change for an idle plume. 
Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form. 
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls 
To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood: 
Let 's write good angel on the devil's horn ; 
'Tis not the devil's crest. 

Enter a Servant. 

How now ! who 's there ? 

Serv. One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you. 

Ang. Teach her the way. O heavens! 

Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, 20 
Making both it unable for itself, 
And dispossessing all my other parts 

9. "Feared"; probably an error of "feared" i, e. "seared" which, 
according to Collier, is the reading of Lord Ellesmere's copy of the 
1st Folio.— I. G. 

12. Shakespeare judiciously distinguishes the different operations 
of high place upon different minds. Fools are frighted and wise 
men allured. Those who cannot judge but by the eye are easily 
awed by splendor; those who consider men as well as conditions, 
are easily persuaded to love the appearance of virtue dignified with 
power. — H. N. H. 

17. The crest was often emblematic of something in the wearer, 
such, for example, as his ancestral name. "The devil's horn" is 
"the devil's crest"; but if we write "good angel" on it, the emblem 
is overlooked in the "false seeming"; we think it is not the devil's 
horn, because itself tells us otherwise. — H. N. H. 
53 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ir. Sc. iv. 

Of necessary fitness? 

So play the foolish throngs with one that 

swoons ; 
Come all to help him, and so stop the air 
By which he should revive: and even so 
. The general subject to a well-wish'd king 
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness 
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught 

love 
Must needs appear offense. 

Enter Isabella. 

How now, fair maid? 30 
Isah. I am come to know your pleasure. 
Ang. That you might know it, would much better 
please me 
Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother can- 
not live. 
Isah. Even so. — Heaven keep your honor! 
Ang. Yet may he live awhile; and, it may be, 

As long as you or I : yet he must die. 
Isah. Under your sentence? 
Ang. Yea. 
Isah. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, 

27. That is, the jjeople or multitude subject to a king. So, in 
Hamlet: "The play pleased not the million; 'twas caviare to the 
general." It is supposed that Shakespeare, in this passage, and in 
one before, Act i. sc. 2, intended to flatter the unkingly weakness of 
James I, which made him so impatient of the crowds which flocked 
to see him, at his first coming, that he restrained them by a procla- 
mation.— H. N. H. 

27-30. Like the similar passage in i. 1. 68-71, these lines have 
been thought to ofi'er an apology for James's haughty demeanor on 
his entry into England. — C. H. H. 

52 



Act II. Sc. iv. MEASURE rOR MEASURE 

Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted 40 

That his soul sicken not. 

Ang. Ha! fie, these filthy vices! It were as good 
To pardon him that hath from nature stolen 
A man already made, as to remit 
Their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's 

image 
In stamps that are forbid : 'tis all as easy 
Falsely to take away a life true made, 
As to put metal in restrained means 
To make a false one. 

Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. 

Ang. Say you so? then I shall pose you quickly. 51 
Which had you rather, — that the most just law 
Now took your brother's life ; or, to redeem him, 
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness 
As she that he hath stain'd! 

Isab. Sir, believe this, 

I had rather give my body than my soul. 

Ang. 1 talk not of your soul: our compell'd sins 
Stand more for number than for accompt. 

Isab. How say you? 

Ang. Nay, I '11 not warrant that; for I can speak 

Against the thing I say. Answer to this : — 60 

I 

43, 44. That is, that hath killed a man.— H. N. H. 

44. "remit"; pardon. — C. H. H. 

46-49. The thought is simply, that murder is as easy as fornication ; 
and the inference which Angelo would draw is, that it is as im- 
proper to pardon the latter as the former. — H. N. H. 

56. Isabel appears to use the wprds "give my body" in a different 
sense than Angelo. Her meaning appears to be, "I had rather die 
than forfeit my eternal happiness by the prostitution of my per- 
son."— H. N. H. 

58. That is, actions that we are compelled to, however numerous, 
are not imputed to us by Heaven as crimes. — H. N. H. 
54 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc. iv. 

I, now the voice of the recorded law, 

Pronounce a sentence on your brother's hfe: 

Might there not be a charity in sin 

To save this brother's hfe? 
Isah. Please you to do 't, 

I '11 take it as a peril to my soul. 

It is no sin at all, but charity. 
Ang. Pleased you to do 't at peril of your soul. 

Were equal poise of sin and charity. 
Isah. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, 

Heaven let me bear it! you granting of my 
suit, 70 

If that be sin, I '11 make it my morn prayer 

To have it added to the faults of mine, 

And nothing of your answer. 
Ang. Nay, but hear me. 

Your sense pursues not mine: either you are 
ignorant, 

Or seem so, craftily ; and that 's not good. 
Isah. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, 

But graciously to know I am no better. 
Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright 

When it doth tax itself ; as these black masks 

Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder 80 

Than beauty could, display'd. But mark me ; 

73. "nothing of your ansioer"; not to be answered for by you. — 
C. H. H. 

79. The "masks" worn by female spectators of the play are here 
probably meant. At the beginning of Romeo and Juliet, we have 
a pasage of similar import: 

"These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, 
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair." 

— H. N. H. 

55 



Act II. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

To be received plain, I '11 speak more gross: 
Your brother is to die. 

Isab. So. 

Ang. And his offense is so, as it appears. 
Accountant to the law upon that pain. 

Isab. True. 

Ang. Admit no other way to save his life, — 
As I subscribe not that; nor any other. 
But in the loss of question, — that you, his sis- 
ter, 90 
Finding yourself desired of such a person. 
Whose credit with the judge, or own great 

place. 
Could fetch your brother from the manacles 
Of the all-building law; and that there were 
No earthly mean to save him, but that either 
You must lay down the treasures of your body 
To this supposed, or else to let him suffer ; 
What would you do? 

Isab. As much for my poor brother as myself : 

That is, were I under the terms of death, 100 
The impression of keen whips I 'Id wear as 

rubies. 
And strip myself to death, as to a bed 
That longing have been sick for, ere I 'Id yield 
My body up to shame. 

Ang. Then must your brother die. 

90. That is, conversation that tends to nothing. — H. N. H. 

"in the loss of question"; in the embarrassment of discussion; 
simply as a means of making my point clear. — C. H. H, 

103. "That longing have been sick for"; Rowe suggested, " I 've 
been sick for." — I. G, 



b6 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc. iv. 

Isdb. And 'twere the cheaper way : 

Better it were a brother died at once, 

Than that a sister, by redeeming him. 

Should die forever. 
,.ing. Were not you, then, as cruel as the sentence 

That you have slander'd so? 110 

Isab. Ignomy in ransom and free pardon 

Are of two houses : lawful mercy 

Is nothing kin to foul redemption. 
A.ng. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant; 

And rather proved the sliding of your brother 

A merriment than a vice. 
Isab. O, pardon me, my lord ; it oft falls out, 

To have what we would have, we speak not what 
we mean: 

I something do excuse the thing I hate, 

For his advantage that I dearly love. 120 

Ang. We are all frail. 
Isab. Else let my brother die, 

If not a feodary, but only he 

Owe and succeed thy weakness. 
Ang. Nay, women are frail too. 
Isab. Aye, as the glasses where they view them- 
selves ; 

Which are as easy broke as they make forms. 

122-124. A very obscure passage. The original reads, thy weak- 
ness, which fairly defies explanation. The word this is adopted by 
Mr. Collier from an old manuscript note in a copy of the first folio 
belonging to Lord Francis Egerton. With this change, the pas- 
sage, though still obscure, makes good sense enough: "If we are 
not all frail, — if my brother have no feodary, that is, no companion, 
one holding by the same tenure of frailty, — if he alone be found 
to owK and succeed to this weakness, — then let him die." — H. N. H. 

125. The comparison is proverbial: "Glasses and lasses are brit- 
tle ware" (Hazlitt, English Proverbs).— C. H. H. 
57 



Act II. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Women! — Help Heaven! men their creation 
mar 

In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times 
frail ; 

For we are soft as our complexions are, 

And credulous to false prints. 
Ang. I think it well: 130 

And from this testimony of your own sex, — 

Since, I suppose, we are made to be no stronger 

Than faults may shake our frames, — let me be 
bold;— 

I do arrest your words. Be that you are. 

That is, a woman ; if you be more, you 're none ; 

If you be one, — as you are well express'd 

By all external warrants, — show it now, 

By putting on the destined livery. 
Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, 

Let me entreat you speak the former language. 
Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. 141 

Isab. My brother did love Juliet, 

And you tell me that he shall die for it. 
Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. 
Isab. I know your virtue hath a license in 't. 

Which seems a little fouler than it is, 

To pluck on others. 
Ang. Believe me, on mine honor. 

My words express my purpose. 

127. The meaning appears to be, that men debase their natures 
by taking advantage of women's weakness. She therefore calls on 
Heaven to assist them. — H. N. H. 

145-147. That is, your virtue assumes an air of licentiousness, 
which is not natural to you, on purpose to try me. — H. N. H. 



58 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ii. Sc. iv. 

Isab. Ha! little honor to be much believed, 

And most pernicious purpose! — Seeming, seem- 
ing!— 150 
I will proclaim thee, Angelo ; look for 't : 
Sign me a present pardon for my brother, 
Or with an outstretch'd throat I '11 tell the 

world aloud 
What man thou art. 
Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? 

My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, 
My vouch against you, and my place i' the 

state, 
Will so j^our accusation overweigh. 
That you shall stifle in your own report. 
And smell of calumny. I have begun; 
And now I give my sensual race the rein : 160 
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite ; 
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes. 
That banish what they sue for; redeem thy 

brother 
By yielding up thy body to my will ; 
Or else he must not only die the death. 
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out 
To lingering suiFrance. Answer me to-mor- 
row. 
Or, by the affection that now guides me most, 
I '11 prove a tyrant to him. As for you. 
Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your 
true. {Exit. 170 

Isab. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, 

162. "prolixious hlnshes" means what Milton has elegantly called 
^^sweet reluctant amorous delay." — H. N. H. 
59 



Act II. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, 
That bear in them one and the self -same tongue, 
Either of condemnation or approof ; 
Bidding the law make court'sy to their will ; 
Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite, 
To follow as it draws ! I '11 to my brother : 
Though he hath fall'n by prompture of the 

blood. 
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honor. 
That, had he twenty heads to tender down 180 
On twenty bloody blocks, he 'Id yield them up, 
Before his sister should her body stoop 
To such abhorr'd pollution. 
Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : 
More than our brother is our chastity. 
I '11 tell him yet of Angelo's request. 
And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. 

172. "O perilous mouths"; the line is defective as it stands (?) 
"O pernicious mouths" (Walker), or "these perilous" (Seymour). — 
I. G. 



60 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act HI. Sc. i. 

ACT THIRD 

Scene I 
A room in the prison. 

Enter Duke disguised as before, Claudio, and Pro- 
vost. 
Duke. So, then, you hope of pardon from Lord 

Angelo? 
Claud. The miserable have no other medicine 
But only hope: 

I Ve hope to live, and am prepared to die. 
Duke, Be absolute for death; either death or life 
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with 

life: 
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing 
That none but fools would keep : a breath thou 

art, 
Servile to all the skyey influences. 
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, 10 
Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool; 

8. "keep" here means care for, a common acceptation of the word 
in Chaucer and later writers. — H. N. H. 

11. Death and his fool were personages that once figured on the 
stage. Douce relates having seen a play at a fair, in which Death 
bore a part, attended by a fool or clown; the person that repre- 
sented Death being habited in a close black vest so painted as to 
look like a skeleton. Douce also had an old wood-cut, one of a 
.series representing the Dance of Death, in which the fool was en- 
gaged in combat with his adversary, and buffeting him with a 
bladder filled with peas or small pebbles. In all such perform- 
61 



Act III. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

For him thou labor'st by thy flight to shun, 
And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art 

not noble ; 
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 
Are nursed by baseness. Thou 'rt by no means 

valiant ; 
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep. 
And that thou oft provokest ; yet grossly f ear'st 
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not 

thyself; 
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains 20 
That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; 
For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to 

get, 
And what thou hast, f orget'st. Thou art not 

certain ; 
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects. 
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou 'rt 

poor ; 

ances, the rule appears to have been, that the fool, after struggling 
long against the stratagems of Death, at last became his victim. — 
H. N. H. 

14-15. Upon this passage Johnson observes: "A minute analysis of 
life at once destroys that splendor which dazzles the imagination. 
Whatever grandeur can display, or luxury enjoy, is procured by 
baseness, by ofl&ces of which the mind shrinks from the contem- 
plation. All the delicacies of the table may be traced back to the 
shambles and the dunghill, all magnificence of building %vas hewn 
from the quarry, and all the pomp of ornament from among the 
damps and darkness of the mine." — H. N. H. 

17. "worm" is put for any creeping thing or serpent. Shakespeare 
adopts the vulgar error, that a serpent wounds with his tongue, 
and that his tongue is forked. In old tapestries and paintings the 
tongues of serpents and dragons always appear barbed like the 
point of an arrow. — H. N. H. 

62 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act lii. Sc. i. 

For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows. 
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, 
And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou 

none; 
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire. 
The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 30 

Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor 

youth nor age, 
But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep. 
Dreaming on both ; for all thy blessed youth 
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms 
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich. 
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb nor 

beauty. 
To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in 

this 
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life 
Lie hid moe thousand deaths : yet death we fear, 
That makes these odds all even. 

32-34. This is exquisitely imagined. When we are young, we busy 
ourselves in forming schemes for succeeding time, and miss the 
gratifications that are before us; when we are old, we amuse the 
languor of age with the recollection of youthful pleasures or per- 
formances; so that our life, of which no part is filled with the 
business of the present time, resembles our dreams after dinner, 
when the events of the morning are mingled with the designs of 
the evening. — H. N. H. 

36. "palsied eld"; old age. In youth, which is or ought to be the 
happiest time, man commonly wants means to obtain what he could 
enjoy; he is dependent on palsied eld; must beg alms from the 
coffers of hoary avarice; and, being very niggardly supplied, he- 
eomes as aged, looks like an old man on happiness beyond his reach. 
And when he is old and rich, when he has wealth enough for the 
purchase of all that formerly excited his desires, he has no longer 
the powers of enjoyment. — H. N. H. 



Act 111. Sc. i. MEASURE FOE MEASURE 

Claud. I humbly thank you. 41 

To sue to live, I find I seek to die ; 
And, seeking death, find life : let it come on. 
Isab. Iwithin] What, ho! Peace here; grace 

and good company! 
Prov. Who 's there? come in: the wish deserves a 

welcome. 
Duke. Dear sir, ere long I '11 visit you again. 
Claud. Most holy sir, I thank you. 

Enter Isabella. 

Isab. My business is a word or two with Claudio. 

Prov. And very welcome. Look, signior, here 's 
your sister. 

Duke. Provost, a word with you. 50 

Prov. As many as you please. 

Duke. Bring me to hear them speak, where I may 
be concealed. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. 

Claud. Now, sister, what 's the comfort? 

Isab. Why, 

As all comforts are; most good, most good in- 
deed. 
Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, 
Intends you for his swift ambassador, 
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: 
Therefore your best appointment make with 
speed ; 60 

To-morrow you set on. 

Claud. Is there no remedy? 

Isab. None, but such remedy as, to save a head. 
To cleave a heart in twain. 

Claud. But is there any? 

64 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iii. Sc. i. 

Isah. Yes, brother, you may live : 

There is a devilish mercy in the judge, 

If you '11 implore it, that will free your life, 

But fetter you till death. 

Claud. Perpetual durance? 

Isah. Aye, just; perpetual durance, a restraint, 
Though all the world's vastidity you had. 
To a determined scope. 

Claud. But in what nature? '^0 

Isah. In such a one as, you consenting to 't. 

Would bark your honor from that trunk you 

bear, 
And leave you naked. 

Claud. Let me know the point. 

Isah. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake. 
Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain. 
And six or seven winters more respect 
Than a perpetual honor. Darest thou die ? 
The sense of death is most in apprehension; 
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon. 
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 80 
As when a giant dies. 

Claud. Why give you me this shame? 

Think you I can a resolution fetch 

70. "determined scope"; a confinement of your mind to one idea; 
to ignominy, of which the remembrance can neither be suppressed 
nor escaped. — H. N. H. 

72. A metaphor, from stripping trees of their hark. — H. N. H. 

77-81. This beautiful passage is in all our minds and memories, 
but it most frequently stands in quotation detached from the antece- 
dent line, — "The sense of death is most in apprehension"; without 
which it is liable to an opposite construction. The meaning is, that 
fear is the principal sensation in death, which has no pain; and the 
giant when he dies feels no greater pain than the beetle. — H. N. B 

xxni— 5 65 



Act III. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

From flowery tenderness? If I must die, 
I will encounter darkness as a bride, 
And hug it in mine arms. 

Isah. There spake my brother; there my father's 
grave 
Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die : 
Thou art too noble to conserve a life 
In base appliances. This outward-sainted dep- 
uty, 
Whose settled visage and deliberate word 90 
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enrniew 
As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil ; 
His filth within being cast, he would appear 
A pond as deep as hell. 

Claud. The prenzie Angelo ! 

Isah. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, 
The damned'st body to invest and cover 
In prenzie guards ! Dost thou think, Claudio ? — ■ 
If I would yield him my virginity. 
Thou mightst be freed. 

Claud. O heavens! it cannot be. 

83. "From flowery tenderness" ; i. e. do you think that, to make 
me resolute, I must be treated with this tender consideration for 
my supposed weakness? — C. H. H. 

91. In whose presence the follies of youth are afraid to show 
themselves, as the fowl is afraid to flutter while the falcon hovers 
over it.— H. N. H. 

93. "cast"; cast up, vomited. — C. H. H. 

94, 97. "Prenzie"; the source of this strange word has baffled 
students; it seems identical with the Scottish primsie, "demure, pre- 
cise," which in its turn is connected with prim (in Old French prin, 
pren) t under any circumstances there is no reason why the word 
should be changed, as has been proposed, to "princely," the readers 
of the 2nd Folio, or "priestly," "pensive," &c. — I. G. 

66 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iii. Sc. i. 

Isab. Yes, he would give 't thee, from this rank 
offence. 100 

So to offend him still. This night 's the time 

That I should do what I abhor to name, 

Or else thou diest to-morrow. 
Claud. Thou shalt not do 't. 

Isab. O, were it but my life, 

I 'Id throw it down f Qr your deliverance 

As frankly as a pin. 
Claud. Thanks, dear Isabel. 

Isab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow. 
Claud. Yes. Has he affections in him, 

That thus can make him bite the law by the nose. 

When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin; HO 

Or of the deadly seven it is the least. 
Isab. Which is the least? 
Claud. If it were damnable, he being so wise. 

Why would he for the momentary trick 

Be perdurably fined? — O Isabel! 
Isab. What says my brother? 
Claud. Death is a fearful thing. 

Isab. And shamed life a hateful. 
Claud. Aye, but to die, and go we know not where ; 

To lie in cold obstruction and to rot ; 

This sensible warm motion to become 120 

100. That is, "from the time of my committing this oflFence, you 
might persist in sinning with safety." — H. N. H. 

108-110. "Has he passions that impel him to transgress the law at 
the very moment that he is enforcing it against others? Surely 
then it cannot be a sin so very heinous, since Angelo, who is so 
wise, will venture it." Shakespeare shows his knowledge of human 
nature in the conduct of Claudio. — H. N. H. 

114. "trick" : caprice. — C. H. H. 

67 



Act III. Sc. i. MEASURE POH MEASURE 

A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit 

To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 

In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; 

To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, 

And blown with restless violence round about 

The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst 

Of those that lawless and incertain thought 

Imagine howling: — 'tis too horrible! 

The weariest and most loathed worldly life 

That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 130 

Can lay on nature is a paradise 

To what we fear of death. 

Isah. Alas, alas! 

Claud. Sweet sister, let me live : 

What sin you do to save a brother's life, 
Nature dispenses with the deed so far 
That it becomes a virtue. 

121. This passage is a standing puzzle to commentators; "fiery 
floods" and "region of thick-ribbed ice" being, as one would think, 
among th'e last places to be delighted in. The most common ex- 
planation is, that delighted spirit means the spirit that has been 
delighted, or is accustomed to delight. Another, and perhaps a 
better explanation, is, that the passive form is here used in an ac- 
tive sense, delighted for delighting or delightful, — an usage quite 
frequent in Shakespeare; as in Othello, Act i. sc. 3: "If virtue jio 
delighted beauty lack"; and in The Merry Wii'^es of Windsor, Act 
iv. sc. 6: "Give our hearts united ceremony." But the best sug- 
gestion we have seen is, that the word is here used in the sense 
of removed from or deprived of the light, as if it were written 
de-lighted; which is a strictly classical use of the prepositive de, 
and certainly has the merit of harmony with the context. The 
use of the Latin prepositive de, di, dis, in combination with native 
words, is so common in Shakespeare and other writers of that time, 
that it is scarce worth the while to cite examples. — H. N. H. 

123. "thrilling"; piercingly cold.— C. H. H. 

So. in Ben Jonson's Catiline, Act i. sc. 1: "We are spirit- 
bound in rihs of ice, our whole bloods are one stone, and honor 
cannot thaw us." — H. N. H. 

68 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iii. Sc. i. 

Isah. O you beast ! 

faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! 
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? 
Is 't not a kind of incest, to take life 

From thine own sister's shame? What should 
I think? • 140 

Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair ! 
For such a warped slip of wilderness 
Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my de- 
fiance ! 
Die, perish! Might but my bending down 
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should pro- 
ceed: 

1 '11 pray a thousand prayers for thy death, 
No word to save thee. 

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel. 

Isah. O, fie, fie, fie! 

Thy sin 's not accidental, but a trade. . 

Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd : 150 

'Tis best that thou diest quickly. 
Claud. O, hear me, Isabella! 

Re-enter Duke. 

Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one 

word. 
I sab. What is your will? 
Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I 

would by and by have some speech with you : 

the satisfaction I would require is likewise 

your own benefit: 
Isah. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay 

69 



Act III. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

must be stolen out of other affairs ; but I will 160 
attend you awhile. \_Walks apart. 

Duke. Son, I have overheard what hath passed 
between you and your sister. Angelo had 
never the purpose to corrupt her; only he 
hath made an assay of her virtue to practice 
his judgment with the disposition of natures: 
she, having the truth of honor in her, hath 
made him that gracious denial which he is 
most glad to receive. I am confessor to An- 
gelo, and I know this to be true ; therefore 170 
prepare yourself to death: do not satisfy 
your resolution with hopes that are fallible: 
to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, 
and make ready. 

Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so 
out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid 
of it. 

Duke. Hold you there: farewell. [Emt Claudio.} 
Pi'ovost, a word with you ! 

Re-enter Provost. 

Prov. What 's your will, father? 180 

Duke. That now you are come, you will be 
gone. Leave me awhile with the maid: my 
mind promises with my habit no loss shall 
touch her by my company. 

Prov. In good tinie. 

[Ea:it Provost. Isabella comes forward. 

Duke. The hand that hath made you fair hath 

178. "Hold you there" j continue in that resolution. — H. N. H. 
J§5. That is, d, la bonne heure, so be it, very well. — H. N, H, 

70 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act in. Sc. i 

made you good: the goodness that is cheap 
in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness; 
but grace, being the soul of your complex- 
ion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. The 190 
assault that Angelo hath made to you, for- 
tune hath conveyed to my understanding; 
and, but that frailty hath examples for his 
falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How 
will you do to content this substitute, and to 
save your brother? 

I sab. I am now going to resolve him: I had 
rather my brother die by the law than my 
son should be unlawfully born. But, O, 
how much is the good Duke deceived in An- 200 
gelo! If ever he return and I can speak to 
him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover 
his government. 

Duke. That shall not be much amiss : yet, as the 
matter now stands, he will avoid your accusa- 
tion ; he made trial of you only. Therefore 
fasten your ear on my advisings : to the love 
I have in doing good a remedy presents it- 
self. I do make myself believe that you 
may most uprighteously do a poor wronged 210 
lady a merited benefit ; redeem your brother 
from the angry law ; do no stain to your own 
gracious person ; and much please the absent 
Duke, if peradventure he shall ever return 
to have hearing of this business. 

187. "the goodness that is cheap in beauty," etc.; "When goodness 
is not the soul of beauty, but its slighted and vendible accompani- 
ment, beauty itself is fugitive." — C. H. H. 

71 - 



Act III. Sc. L MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Isab. Let me hear you speak farther. I have 
spirit to do any thing that appears not foul 
in the truth of my spirit. 

Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fear- 
ful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, 220 
the sister of Frederick the great soldier who 
mis-carried at sea? 

Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words 
went with her name. 

Duke. She should this Angelo have married; 
was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial 
appointed: between which time of the con- 
tract and limit of the solemnity, her brother 
Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that 
perished vessel the dowrj^ of his sister. But 230 
mark how heavily this befell to the poor gen- 
tlewoman: there she lost a noble and re- 
nowned brother, in his love toward her ever 
most -kind and natural ; with him, the por- 
tion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage- 
dowry; with both, her combinate husband, 
this well-seeming Angelo. 

Isab. Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her? 

Duke. Left her in her tears, and dried not one 
of them with his comfort ; swallowed his 240 
vows whole, pretending in her discoveries of 
dishonor: in few, bestowed her on her own 
lamentation, which she yet wears for his 
sake ; and he, a marble to her tears, is washed 
with them, but relents not. 

242. "bestowed her on her oion lamentation"; that is, gave her up 
to her sorrows, — H. N. H. 

• 72 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act III. Sc. i. 

I sab. What a merit were it in death to take this 
poor maid from the world! What corrup- 
tion in this Hf e, that it will let this man live ! 
But how out of this can she avail? 

Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal: 250 
and the cure of it not only saves your 
brother, but keeps you from dishonor in do- 
ing it. 

Isab. Show me how, good father. 

Duke. This f orenamed maid hath yet in her the 
continuance of her first affection: his un- 
just unkindness, that in all reason should 
have quenched her love, hath, like an impedi- 
ment in the current, made it more violent 
and unruly. Go you to Angelo ; answer his 260 
requiring with a plausible obedience; agree 
with his demands to the point; only refer 
yourself to this advantage, first, that your 
stay with him may not be long ; that the time 
may have all shadow and silence in it ; and the 
place answer to convenience. This being 
granted in course, — and now follows all, — 
we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up 
your appointment, go in your place; if the 
encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it 270 
may compel him to her recompense : and here, 
by this, is your brother saved, your honor un- 
tainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and 
the corrupt Deputy scaled. The maid will I 

249, "avail"; derive advantage. — C. H. H. 
262. "refer yourself"; have recourse to. — H. N. H. 
274. "scaled"; that is, stripped of his covering or disguise, his 
affectation of virtue; desquamatiis. A metaphor of a similar na- 
72 



Act III. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

frame and make fit for his attempt. ^If you 
think well to carry this as you may, the 
doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit 
from reproof. What think you of it? 

Isah. The image of it gives me content already ; 
and I trust it will grow to a most prosper- 280 
ous perfection. 

Duke. It lies much in your holding up. Haste 
you speedily to Angelo ; if for this night he 
entreat you to his bed, give him promise of 
satisfaction. I will presently to Saint 
Luke's: there, at the moated grange, re- 
sides this dejected Mariana. At that place 
call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, 
that it may be quickly. 

ture has before occurred in this play, taken from the barking, peel- 
ing, or stripping of trees. — H. N. H. 
275. "frame"; prepare. — C. H. H. 

286, 287. "there . . . Mariana"; the dreary and desolate soli- 
tude of Mariana at the moated grange is wrought out with great 
power by Mr. Tennyson, in a poem from which we have room for but 
one stanza: 

"Her tears fell with the dews at even. 
Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; 
She could not look on the sweet heaven. 

Either at morn or eventide. 
After the flitting of the bats, 

When thickest dark did trance the sky. 
She drew her casement curtain by, 
And glanc'd athwart the glooming flats. 
She only said, 'The night is dreary- 
He Cometh not,' she said; 
She said, 'I am aweary, aweary; 
I would that I were dead !' " 
The whole poem is a rare specimen in the art of creating imagery 
so fitted to a given tone of feeling as to reproduce the feeling it- 
self. — A grange was a large farm-house, such as are often kept for 
summer residence by wealthy citizens. The grange was sometimes 
moated for defense and safety. — H. N. H. 
74 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Isab, I thank you for this comfort. Fare you 290 
■well, good father. [Exeunt severally. 



Scene II 

The street before the prison. 

Enter, on one side, Duke disguised as be- 
fore; on the other. Elbow, and Officers 
with Pompey. 

Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that 
you will needs buy and sell men and women 
like beasts, we shall have all the world drink 
brown and white bastard. 

Duke. O heavens! what stuff is here? 

Pom. "Twas never merry world since, of two 
usuries, the merriest was put down, and the 
worser allowed by order of law a furred 
gown to keep him warm; and furred with 
fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that 10 
craft, being richer than innocency, stands for 
the facing. 

Elb. Come your way, sir. 'Bless you, good 
father friar. 

Sc. ii. In F. there is no change of scene.— C. H. H. 

8. "the worsefj i. e. money-lending. — C. H. H. 

9. "The passage seems to us to imply, furred (that is, lined with 
lamb-skin fur inside, and trimmed with fox-skin fur outside) with 
both kinds of fur, to show that craft (fox-skin), being richer than 
innocency (lamb-skin), is used for decoration" (Clarke). — I. G. 

13-15. "Good father friar" . . . "good brother father"; the 
joke, as Tyrwhitt pointed out, would be clearer in French, "man 
pere fr^re" . . . "mon fr^re p^re." — I. G. 
75 



Act IIL Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. And you, good brother father. What 
offense hath this man made you, sir ? 

Elb. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law : and, 
sir, we take him to be a thief too, sir ; for we 
have found upon him, sir, a strange picklock, 
which we have sent to the Deputy. 20 

Duke. Fie, sirrah! a bawd, a wicked bawd! 
The evil that thou causest to be done. 
That is thy means to live. Do thou but think 
What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back 
From such a filthy vice : say to thyself. 
From their abominable and beastly touches 
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. 
Canst thou believe thy living is a life. 
So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend. 

Pom. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir ; but 30 
yet, sir, I would prove — 

Duke. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs 
for sin. 
Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, 

officer : 
Correction and instruction must both work 
Ere this rude beast will profit. 

Elb. He must before the Deputy, sir; he has 
given him warning : the Deputy cannot abide 
a whoremaster : if he be a whoremonger, and 
comes before him, he were as good go a mile 
on his errand. 40 

19. "picklock"; it is not necessary to take honest Pompey for a 
housebreaker: the locks he had occasion to pick were Spanish pad- 
locks. In Jonson's Volpone, Corvino threatens to make his wife 
wear one of these strange contrivances. — H. N. H. 



76 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act III. Sc. ii. 

Duke. That we were all, as some would seem to be, 
From our faults, as faults from seeming, free! 

Elb. His neck will come to your waist, — a cord, sir. 

Pom, I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a 
gentleman and a friend of mine. 

Enter Lucio. 

Lucio. How now, noble Pompey! What, at 
the wheels of Csesar? art thou led in tri- 
umph? What, is there none of Pygma- 
lion's image's, newly made woman, to be had 
now, for putting the hand in the pocket and 50 
extracting it clutched? What reply, ha? 
What sayest thou to this tune, matter and 
method ? Is 't not drowned i' the last rain, 
ha? What sayest thou, Trot? Is the world 
as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it 
sad, and few words? or how? The trick of 
it? 

Duke. Still thus, and thus ; still worse ! 

Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? 
Procures she still, ha? 60 

43. "From our faults, as faults from seeming, free!" So Folio 
1, Folio 3 and Folio 3, "Free from our faults/' &c.; Hanmer cor- 
rects the latter part of the line, "As from faults seeming free." 
As it stands in the text, it would seem to mean "Would that we 
were as free from faults, as our faults are from seeming (hypoc- 
risy)." One feels inclined to hazard — 

"Free from our faults, as from false seeming, free!" 

(Cp, II. iv. 15, "thy false seeming") — I. G. 

44. His neck M^ill be tied, like your waist, with a cord. The friar 
wore a rope for a girdle. — H. N. H. 

49. "newly made woman"; that is, have you no new courtesans to 
recommend to your customers? — H. N. H. 



77 



Act III. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Pom, Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, 
and she is herself in the tub. 

Lucio, Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it 
must be so : ever your fresh whore and your 
powdered bawd ; an unshunned consequence ; 
it must be so. Art going to prison, Pom- 
pey? 

Pom. Yes, faith, sir. 

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Fare- 
well: go say I sent thee thither. For debt, 70 
Pompey? or how? 

Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. 

Lucio. Well, then, imprison him: if imprison- 
ment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his 
right: bawd is he doubtless, and of antiq- 
uity too ; bawd-born. Farewell, good Pom- 
pey. Commend me to the prison, Pompey: 
you will turn good husband now, Pompey; 
you will keep the house. 

Pom. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my 80 
bail. 

Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not 
the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increaase 
your bondage: if you take it not patiently, 
why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, 
trusty Pompey. 'Bless you, friar. 

Duke. And you. 

Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha? 

Elb. Come your ways, sir ; come. 

63. "in the tub"; the method of cure for a certain disease was 
grossly called the powdering ttib. — H. N. H. 

79. "keep the house"; that is, stay at home, alluding to the etymol- 
ogy of husband. — H. N. H. 

78 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act in. Sc. ii. 

Pom. You will not bail me, then, sir? 90 

Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news 
abroad, friar? what news? 

Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. 

Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey ; go. [Exeunt El- 
how, Pompey and Officers.'] What news, 
friar, of the Duke? 

Duke. I know none. Can you tell me of any? 

Lucio. Some say he is with the Emperor of 
Russia; other some, he is in Rome: but 
where is he, think you? 100 

Duke. I know not where; but wheresoever, I 
wish him well. 

Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to 
steal from the state, and usurp the beggary 
he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes 
it well in his absence; he puts transgression 
to't. 

Duke. He does well in 't. 

Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do 
no harm in him ; something too crabbed that HO 
way, friar. 

Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity 
must cure it. 

Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great 
kindred; it is well allied: but it is impossible 
to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drink- 
ing be put down. They say this Angelo was 
not made by man and woman after this 
downright way of creation: is it true, think 
you? 120 

91. "Then nor now"j neither then nor now. — C H. H. 

79 



Act III. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. How should he be made, then? 

Lucio. Some report a sea-maid spawned him; 
some, that he was begot between two stock- 
fishes. But it is certain that, when he makes 
water, his urine is congealed ice ; that I know 
to be true: and he is a motion generative; 
that 's infallible. 

Duke, You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace. 

Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in 
him, for the rebellion -of a codpiece to take 130 
away the life of a man! Would the Duke 
that is absent have done this ? Ere he would 
have hanged a man for the getting a hun- 
dred bastards, he would have paid for the 
nursing a thousand: he had some feeling of 
the sport; he knew the service, and that in- 
structed him to mercy. 

Duke. I never heard the absent Duke much de- 
tected for women; he was not inclined that 
way. 140 

Lucio. O, sir, you are deceived. 

Duke. ^Tis not possible. 

Lucio. Who, not the Duke? yes, your beggar 
of fifty ; and his use was to put a ducat in her 
clack-dish: the Duke had crotchets in him. 
He would be drunk too ; that let me inform 
you. 

Duke. You do him wrong, surely. 

Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fel- 
low was the Duke: and I believe I know the 150 
cause of his withdrawing. 

Duke, What, I prithee, might be the cause? 
80 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act Hi. Sc. ii. 

Lucio. No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be locked 
within the teeth and the hps: but this I can 
let you understand, the greater file of the 
subject held the Duke to be wise. 

Duke. Wise ! why, no question but he was. 

Lucio. A very superficial, ignorant, unweigh- 
ing fellow. 

Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mis- 160 
taking: the very stream of his life and the 
business he hath helmed must, upon a war- 
ranted need, give him a better proclamation. 
Let him be but testimonied in his own bring- 
ings-forth, and he shall appear to the en- 
vious a scholar, a statesman and a soldier. 
Therefore you speak unskillf ully ; or if your 
knowledge be more, it is much darkened in 
your malice. 

Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. 1^0 

Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and 
knowledge with dearer love. 

Lucio. Come, sir, I know what I know. 

Duke. I can hardly believe that, since you know 
not what you speak. But, if ever the Duke 
return, as our prayers are he may, let me de- 
sire you to make your answer before him. 
If it be honest you have spoke, you have 
courage to maintain it: I am bound to call 
upon you; and, I pray you, your name? 180 

Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to 
the Duke. 

167. "unsMllfully"; without understanding. — C. H, H. 
XXIII— 6 81 



Act III. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. He shall know you better, sir, if I may- 
live to report you. 

Lucio. I fear you not. 

Duke. O, you hope the Duke will return no 
more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an 
opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little 
harm ; you '11 forswear this again. 

Lucio. I '11 be hanged first : thou art deceived 190 
in me, friar. But no more of this. Canst 
thou tell if Claudio die to-morrow or no ? 

Duke. Why should he die, sir? 

Lucio. Why? For filling a bottle with a tun- 
dish. I would the Duke we talk of were re- 
turned again: this ungenitured agent will 
unpeople the province with continency ; spar- 
rows must not build in his house-eaves, be- 
cause they are lecherous. The Duke yet 
would have dark deeds darkly answered ; he 200 
would never bring them to light; would he 
were returned! Marry, this Claudio is con- 
demned for untrussing. Farewell, good 
friar : I prithee, pray for me. The Duke, I 
say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fri- 
days. He 's not past it yet, and I say to 
thee, he would mouth with a beggar, though 
she smelt brown bread and garlic : say that I 
said so. Farewell. [Eccit. 

Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality 210 

205. "mutton"; a wench was called a laced mutton. In Doctor 
Faustus, 1604, Lechery says, "I am one that loves an inch of raw 
mutton better than an ell of stock-fish." See The Two Gentlemen of 
Verona, Act i. sc. 1. — H. N. H. 

208, "smelt" for smelt of.— H. N- H. 
82 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny 
The whitest virtue strikes. What king so 

strong 
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? 
But who comes here? 

Enter Escalus, Provost, and Officers with 
Mistress Overdone. 

Escal. Go ; away with her to prison ! 

M?'s. Ov. Good my lord, be good to me; your 
honor is accounted a merciful man; good 
my lord. 

Escal. Double and treble admonition, and still 
forfeit in the same kind ! This would make 220 
mercy swear and play the tyrant. 

Prov. A bawd of eleven years' continuance, 
may it please j^our honor. 

Mrs. Ov. My lord, this is one Lucio's infor- 
mation against me. Mistress Kate Keep- 
down was with child by him in the Duke's 
time ; he promised her marriage : his child is 
a year and a quarter old, come Philip and 
Jacob: I have kept it myself; and see how he 
goes about to abuse me ! 230 

Escal. That fellow is a fellow of much license : 
let him be called before us. Away with her 
to prison ! Go to ; no more words. [Exeunt 
Officers with Mistress Ov.'\ Provost, my 
brother Angelo will not be altered; Claudio 
must die to-morrow: let him be furnished 
with divines, and have all charitable prep- 

13 E 83 



Act III. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

aration. If my brother wrought by my 
pity, it should not be so with him. 

Prov. So please you, this friar hath been with 240 
him, and advised him for the entertainment 
of death. 

Escal. Good even, good father. 

Duke. Bliss and goodness on you! 

Escal. Of whence are you? 

Duke. Not of this country, though my chance 
is now 
To use it for my time : I am a brother 
Of gracious order, late come from the See 
In special business from his Holiness. 

Escal. What news abroad i' the world? 250 

Duke. None, but that there is so great a fever 
on goodness, that the dissolution of it must 
cure it: novelty is only in request; and it is 
as dangerous to be aged in any kind of 
course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any 
undertaking, There is scarce truth enough 
alive to make societies secure; but security 
enough to make fellowships accurst : — much 
upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the 
world. This news is old enough, yet it is 260 
every day's news. I pray you, sir, of what 
disposition was the Duke ? 

Escal. One that, above all other strifes, con- 
tended especially to know himself. 

Duke. What pleasure was he given to? 

258. "make fellowships accurst"; the allusion is to those legal 
securities into which fellowship leads men to enter for each other. 
For this quibble Shakespeare has high authority; 'He that hateth 
suretyship is sure." Prov. xi. 15. — H. N. H. 

84 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iii. Sc. ii. 

Escal. Rather rejoicing to see another merry, 
than merry at any thing which professed to 
make him rejoice: a gentleman of all tem- 
perance. But leave we him to his events, 
with a prayer they may prove prosperous ; 270 
and let me desire to know how you find 
Claudio prepared. I am made to under- 
stand that you have lent him visitation. 

Duke. He professes to have received no sinis- 
ter measure from his judge, but most will- 
ingly humbles himself to the determination 
of justice: yet had he framed to himself, by 
the instruction of his frailty, many deceiv- 
ing promises of life; which I, by my good 
leisure, have discredited to him, and now is 280 
he resolved to die. 

Escal. You have paid the heavens your func- 
tion, and the prisoner the very debt of your 
calling. I have labored for the poor gen- 
tleman to the extremest shore of my mod- 
esty; but my brother justice have I found so 
severe, that he hath forced me to tell him he 
is indeed Justice. 

Duke. If his own life answer the straitness of 
his proceeding, it shall become him well ; 290 
wherein if he chance to fail, he hath sen- 
tenced himself. 

269. "events"; issue of his affairs. — C. H. H. 

281. "resolved"; that is, satisfied; probably because conviction leads 
to decision or resolution. — H. N. H. 

286. "but my brother justice" etc.; summum jus, summa injuria. 
^H. N. H. 



85 



Act 111. Sc. ii. MEASURE POU MEASURE" 

Escal. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare 

you well. 
Duke, Peace be with you! 

[Exeunt Escalus and Provost. 

He who the sword of heaven will bear 
. Should be as holy as severe ; 

Pattern in himself to know, 

Grace to stand, and virtue go; 

More nor less to others paying 300 

Than by self -offenses weighing. 

Shame to him whose cruel striking 

Kills for faults of his own liking ! 

Twice treble shame on Angelo, 

To weed my vice and let his grow ! 

O, what may man within him hide, 

Though angel on the outward side! 

How may likeness made in crimes, 

295-317. These lines are in all probability not Shakespeare's, but 
by another hand. — I. G. 

299. "Grace to standi and virtue go"; i. e. "To have grace to 
stand firm, and virtue to go forward." — T. G. 

Coleridge, in his Literary Remains, remarks upon this passage, — 
"Worse metre indeed, but better English would be: 

'Grace to stand, virtue to go.' " — H. N. H. 

305. The Duke's vice may be explained by what he says himself. 
Act i. sc. 4 : " 'Twas my fault to give the people scope." — Angelo's 
vice requires no explanation. — H. N. H. 

"my vice"; the duke speaks as a representative of men at large, 
not in his own person. — C. H. H. 

308-311. "How many likeness made in crimes," etc.; these lines 
do not readily admit of interpretation, and some corruption has 
probably crept into the text; Malone suggested ivade for made, i.e. 
"How may hypocrisy wade in crimes"; Hanmer, "that likeness shad- 
ing crimes," etc. None of the suggestions seem very satisfactory. 
Perhaps to draw = 'to-draw," i. e. "pull to pieces" (?) — I. G. 

"Likeness" apparently has much the same meaning here as what 
the Poet elsewhere calls "virtuous-seeming," So that the passage 

86 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Making practice on the times, 

To draw with idle spiders' strings 310 

Most ponderous and substantial things! 

Craft against vice I must apply : 

With Angelo to-night shall lie 

His old betrothed but despised ; 

So disguise shall, by the disguised, 

Pay with falsehood false exacting, 

And perform an old contracting. \_Eccit. 

may be rendered thus: How may seeming virtue, unsubstantial as 
it is, and wickedly put on, by practicing upon the times draw to itself 
the greatest of earthly honors and emoluments, even while it is 
evading or rioting in crime! — H. N. H. 
315. "by the disguised"; i. e. Mariana. — C. H. H. 



67 



Act iV. Sc. i. MEASURE FOE MEASURE 

ACT FOURTH 

Scene I 

The moated grange at St. Luke's. 

Enter Mariana and a Boy. 

Boy sings. 

Take, O, take those lips away, 

That so sweetly were forsworn; 
And those eyes, the break of day, 

Lights that do mislead the morn : 
But my kisses bring again, bring again; 
Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, seal'd in vain. 
Mari. Break off thy song, and haste thee quick 
away : 
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice 

This song appears in Beaumont and Fletcher's Bloody Brother, 
with the addition of the following stanza, assuredly not Shake- 
speare's, though found in the spurious edition of his poems, (1640) — 

"Hide, O hide those hills of snow 

Which thy frozen bosom hears, 
On whose tops the pinks that grow 

Are of those that April tcears; 
But first set my poor heart free. 
Bound by those icy chains by thee." — I. G. 

It does not appear certain to whom this beautiful little song 
rightly belongs. Mr. Malone prints it as Shakespeare's, Mr. Bos- 
well thinks Fletcher has the best claim to it, Mr. Weber that Shake- 
speare may have written the first stanza, and Fletcher the second. 
It may indeed be the property of some unknown or forgotten 
author.— H. N. H. 

88 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. IV Sc. . 

Hath often still'd my brawling discontent. 

[Exit Boy. 

Enter Duke disguised as before. 

I cry you mercy, sir ; and well could wish 10 
You had not found me here so musical : 
Let me excuse me, and believe me so, 
My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my 
woe. 

Duke. 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a 
charm 
To make bad good, and good provoke to harm. 
I pray you, tell me, hath anybody inquired 
for me here to-day? much upon this time 
have I promised here to meet. 

Mari. You have not been inquired after: I 
have sat here all day, 20 

Enter Isabella. 

Duke. I do constantly believe you. The time is 
come even now. I shall crave your for- 
bearance a little: may be I will call upon 
you anon, for some advantage to yourself. 

Mari. I am always bound to you. _ [EiVit, 

Duke. Very well met, and well come. 

What is the news from this good Deputy? 

Isab. He hath a garden circummured with brick. 
Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd; 
And to that vineyard is a planched gate, 30 
That makes his opening with this bigger key : 

13. "Though the music soothed my sorrows, it had no tendency to 
produce light merriment" (Johnson). — I. G. 

89 



Act IV. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

This other doth command a Uttle door 
Which from the vineyard to the garden leads; 
There have I made my promise 
Upon the heavy middle of the night 
To call upon him. 

Duke. But shall you on your knowledge find this 
way? 

Isab. I have ta'en a due and wary note upon it: 
With whisperings and most g^ilty diligence, 
In action all of precept, he did show me 40 
The way twice o'er. 

Duke. Are there no other tokens 

Between you 'greed concerning her observance? 

Isab. No, none, but only a repair i' the dark ; 
And that I have possess'd him my most stay 
Can be but brief; for I have made him know 
I have a servant comes with me along, 
That stays upon me, whose persuasion is 
I come about my brother. 

Duke. 'Tis well borne up. 

I have not yet made known to Mariana 
A word of this. What, ho ! within ! come forth I 

Re-enter Mariana. 

I pray you, be acquainted with this maid; 51 
She comes to do you good. 
Isab. I do desire the like. 

Duke. Do you persuade yourself that I respect 

you? 
Man. Good friar, I know you do, and have found 
it, 

44. "most"; utmost. — C. H. H, 
.00 



I 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act. iv. Sc. i. 

Duke. Take, then, this your companion by the 
hand, 
Who hath a story read}'' for your ear. 
I shall attend your leisure : but make haste ; 
The vaporous night approaches. 
Mari. Wilt 't please you walk aside ? 

[Exeunt Mariana and Isabella. 
Duke. O place and greatness, millions of false 

eyes 60 

Are stuck upon thee ! volumes of report 
~ Run with these false and most contrarious 
quests 
Upon thy doings! thousand escapes of wit 
Make thee the father of their idle dreams. 
And rack thee in their fancies ! 

Re-enter Mariana and Isabella. 

Welcome, how agreed? 

Isdb. She '11 take the enterprise upon her, father. 
If you advise it. 

Duke. It is not my consent, 

But my entreaty too. 

I sab. Little have you to say 

When you depart from him, but, soft and low, 
'Remember now my brother.' 

Mari. Fear me not. 70 

Duke. Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all. 
He is your husband on a pre-contract : 
To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin, 
Sith that the justice of your title to him 
Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go: 
Our corn 's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow. 

[Eoceunto 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Scene II 

A room in the prison. 
Enter Provost and Pompey. 

Prov. Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off 
a man's head? 

Pom. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but 
if he be a married man, he 's his wife's head, 
and I can never cut off a woman's head. 

Prov. Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and 
yield me a direct answer. To-morrow morn- 
ing are to die Claudio and Barnardine. 
Here is in our prison a common executioner, 
who in his office lacks a helper: if you will IG 
take it on you to assist him, it shall redeem 
you from your gyves ; if not, you shall have 
your full time of imprisonment, and your 
deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for 
you have been a notorious bawd. 

Pom. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time 
out of mind; but yet I will be content to be 
a lawful hangman. I would be glad to re- 
ceive some instruction from my fellow part- 
ner. 20 

Prov. What, ho ! Abhorson ! Where 's Abhor- 
son, there? 

Enter Abhorson. 

Abhor. Do you call, sir? 

13. "gyves"; that Is, fetters.— H. N. H* 
92 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. ii. 

Prov. Sirrah, here 's a fellow will help you to- 
morrow in your execution. If you think it 
meet, compound with him by the year, and 
let him abide here with you ; if not, use him 
for the present, and dismiss him. He can- 
not plead his estimation with you; he hath 
been a bawd. 30 

Abhor. A bawd, sir? fie upon him! he will dis- 
credit our mystery. 

Prov. Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather 
will turn the scale. [Exit. 

Pom. Pray, sir, by your good favor, — for 
surely, sir, a good favor you have, but that 
you have a hanging look, — do you call, sir, 
.your occupation a mystery ? 

Abhor. Aye, sir; a mystery. 

Pom. Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mys- 40 
tery; and your whores, sir, being members 
of my occupation, using painting, do prove 
my occupation a mystery : but what mystery 
there should be in hanging, if I should be 
hanged, I cannot imagine. 

Abhor. Sir, it is a mystery. 

Pom. Proof? 

Abhor. Every true man's apparel fits your 
thief: if it be too little for your thief, your 
true man thinks it big enough; if it be too 50 
big for your thief, your thief thinks it lit- 
tle enough: so every true man's apparel fits 
your thief. 

48. "true"; that is, honest.— H. N. H. 

49-53. "// it he too little— thief" ; the Folios give this to Clo. 
9S 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

lie-enter Provost. 

Prov. Are you agreed? 

Pom. Sir, I will serve him; for I do find 
your hangman is a more penitent trade than 
your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness. 

Prov. You, sirrah, provide your block and your 
axe to-morrow four o'clock. 

Abhor. Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in 60 
my trade ; follow. 

Pom. I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if 
you have occasion to use me for your own 
turn, you shall find me yare; for, truly, sir, 
for your kindness I owe you a good turn. 

Prov. Call hither Barnadine and Claudio: 

[Exeunt Pompey and Abhor son. 
The one has my pity; not a jot the other. 
Being a murderer, though he were my brother. 

Enter Claudio. 

Look, here 's the warrant, Claudio, for thy 
death : 

(Pompey) ; Capell first transferred it to Abhorson, and he has been 
followed by most editors. Cowden Clarice defends the Folio ar- 
rangement; among other arguments he maintains that "the speech is 
much more in character with the clown's snip-snap style of chop- 
logic than with Abhorson's manner, which is remarkably curt and 
bluff."— I. G. 

The Clown asks for proof that "hanging is a mystery"; and the 
hangman begins with a creeping, roundabout answer, when the 
Clown, being nimbler-witted, catches his method of proof, darts 
ahead of him in the argument, and proves, not indeed that hanging 
is a mystery, but that something else is. — H. N. H. 

57. It was formerly the custom for an executioner, before pro- 
ceeding to his office, to ask forgiveness of the person to be executed. 
— H. N. H. 

67. "The one"; (pronounced Thone).—C. H. H. 
94 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. ii. 

'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow 
Thou must be made immortal. Where 's Bar- 
nardine? 71 

Claud. As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless 
labor 
When it lies starkly in the traveler's bones : 
He will not wake. 
Prov. Who can do good on him? 

Well, go, prepare yourself. [Knocking with- 

in.~\ But, hark, what noise? — 
Heaven give your spirits comfort ! 

[Eojit Claudio. 
By and by. — 
I hope it is some pardon or reprieve 
For the most gentle Claudio. 

Enter Duke disguised as before. 

Welcome, father. 
Duke. The best and wholesomest spirits of the 

night 
Envelop you, good Provost! Who call'd here 

of late? 
Prov. None, since the curfew rung. 80 

Duke. Not Isabel? 
Prov. No. 

Duke. They will, then, ere 't be long. 

Prov. What comfort is for Claudio? 
Duke. There 's some in hope. 
Prosy. It is a bitter deputy. 
Duke. Not so, not so ; his life is parallel'd 

85, 86. His own life conforms precisely to the lines of conduct 
he enforces as a judge. — C. H. H. 
95 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Even with the stroke and hne of his great jus- 
tice r 
He doth with holy abstinence subdue 
That in himself which he spurs on his power 
To quahfy in others: were he meal'd with that 
Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous ; 90 
But this being so, he 's just. [Knocking within. 

Now are they come. 
[Ecvit Provost. 
This is a gentle provost : seldom when 
The steeled jailer is the friend of men. 

[Knocking within. 
How now ! what noise ? That spirit 's possessed 
with haste 
That wounds the unsisting postern with these 
strokes. 

Re-enter Provost, 

Prov. There he must stay until the officer 

Arise to let him in: he is call'd up. 
Duke. Have you no countermand for Claudio 

yet, 

But he must die to-morrow? 
Prov. None, sir, none. 

Duke. As near the dawning, provost, as it is, 100 

You shall hear more ere morning. 

86. "stroke" is here put for the stroke of a pen, or a line. — 
H. N. H. 

95. "itnsistinff" ; so in the original. Sir William Blackstone sug- 
gests that unsistintj may mean "never at rest, always opening." Mr. 
Collier proposes resistiiifj, which might easily be misprinted unsisting, 
and seems to agree better with the subject; the Provost ivoundhif/ 
the door unth strokes, because it resisted, or stuck in the casement. 
Nevertheless, we adhere to the original.— H. N. H. 

96 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. ii. 

Pi'ov. Happily 

You something know ; yet I believe there comes 
No countermand ; no such example have we : 
Besides, upon the very siege of justice 
Lord Angelo hath to the public ear 
Profess 'd the contrary. 

Enter a Messenger. 

This is his lordship's man. 

Duke. And here comes Claudio's pardon. 

WIes. \_Giving a payer'] My lord hath sent you 
this note ; and by me this further charge, that 
you swerve not from the smallest article of HO 
it, neither in time, matter, or other circum- 
stance. Good morrow ; for, as I take it, it is 
almost day. 

Prov. I shall obey him. [Eocit Messenger. 

Duke. l^Aside] This is his pardon, purchased by 
such sin 
For which the pardoner himself is in. 
Hence hath offense his quick celerity. 
When it is borne in high authority: 
When vice makes mercy, mercy 's so extended. 
That for the fault's love is the offender 
friended. 120 

Now, sir, what news? 

Prov. I told you. Lord Angelo, belike think- . 
ing me remiss in mine office, awakens me 

107. "This . . , man"; Ff. give this speech to the duke, and the 
following one, "And here . . . pardon," to the provost. The 
correction was made by Tyrwhitt. — C. H. H. 

XXITI— 7 97 



Act IV. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

with this unwonted putting-on; methinks 
strangely, for he hath not used it before. 

Duke. Pray you, let 's hear. 

Prov. [Reads.l 

Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let 
Claudio be executed by four of the clock; 
and in the afternoon Barnardine: for my 
better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's 130 
head sent me by five. Let this be duly per- 
formed; with a thought that more depends 
on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail 
not to do your office, as you will answer it 
at your peril. 
What say you to this, sir? 

Duke. What is that Barnardine who is to be 
executed in the afternoon? 

Prov. A Bohemian born, but here nursed up 
and bred; one that is a prisoner nine years 140 
old. 

Duke. How came it that the absent Duke had 
not either delivered him to his liberty or ex- 
ecuted him? I have heard it was ever his 
manner to do so. 

Prov. His friends still wrought reprieves for 
him: and, indeed, his fact, till now in the 
government of Lord Angelo, came not to an 
undoubtful proof. 

Duke. It is now apparent? 150 

Prov. Most manifest, and not denied by him- 
self. 

140. "prisoner nine years old"; that is, nine years in prison. — 
H. N. H, 

98 



MEASURE FOE MEASURE Act IV. Sc. ii. 

Duke. Hath he borne himself penitently in 
prison ? how seems he to be touched ? 

Prov. A man that apprehends death no more 
dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; care- 
less, reckless, and fearless of what 's past, 
present, or to come ; insensible of mortality, 
and desperately mortal. 

Duke. He wants advice. 160 

Prov. He will hear none : he hath evermore had 
the liberty of the prison; give him leave to 
escape hence, he would not: drunk many 
times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. 
We have very oft awaked him, as if to carry 
him to execution, and showed him a seeming 
warrant for it : it hath not moved him at all. 

Duke. More of him anon. There is written in 
your brow, provost, honesty and constancy: 
if I read it not truly, my ancient skill be- 170 
guiles me; but, in the boldness of my cun- 
ning, I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, 
whom here you have warrant to execute, is 
no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo 
who hath sentenced him. To make you un- 
derstand this in a manifested effect, I crave 
but four days' respite ; for the which you are 

159. "desperately mortal"; perhaps we should read mortally des- 
perate; as we have harmonious charmingly for charmingly har- 
monious, in The Tempest. — H. N. H. 

"desperately mortal"; doomed to death without hope of salvation. 
Others interpret: "terribly near to death," "desperate in his in- 
curring of death." But both the context and the duke's comment 
support the theological interpretation. — C. H. H. 

171. That is, in confidence of my sagacity. — H. N. H. 



99 



J^ct iv. Sc. ii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

to do me both a present and a dangerous 
courtesy. 

Prov. Pray, sir, in what? 180 

Duke. In the delaying death. 

Prov. Alack, how may I do it, having the hour 
limited, and an express command, under 
penalty, to deliver his head in the view of 
Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, 
to cross this in the smallest. 

Duke. By the vow of mine order I warrant 
you, if my instructions may be your guide. ~ 
Let this Barnardine be this morning exe- 
cuted, and his head borne to Angelo. 190 

Prov. Angelo hath seen them both, and will 
discover the favor. 

Duke. O, death 's a great disguiser ; and you 
may add to it. Shave the head, and tie the 
beard ; and say it was the desire of the peni- 
tent to be so bared before his death: you 
know the course is common. If any thing 
fall to you upon this, more than thanks and 
good fortune, by the Saint whom I profess, 
I will plead against it with my life. 200 

Prov. Pardon me, good father ; it is against my 
oath. 

Duke. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the 
Deputy? 

Prov. To him, and to his substitutes. 

Duke. You will think you have made no of- 

\94-196. "shave . . . death"; this probably alludes to a prac- 
tice among Roman Catholics of desiring to receive the tonsure of 
the monks before they died. — H. N. H. 

I 100 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. ii. 

fense, if the Duke avouch the justice of 
your deahug? 

Prov. But what hkehhood is in that? 

Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. 210 
Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my 
coat, integrity, nor persuasion can with ease 
attempt j^ou, I will go further than I meant> 
to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, 
sir, here is the hand and seal of the Duke: 
you know the character, I doubt not ; and the 
signet is not strange to you. 

Prov. I know them both. 

Duke. The contents of this is the return of the 
Duke : you shall anon over-read it at your 220 
pleasure; where you shall find, within these 
two days he will be here. This is a thing 
that Angelo knows not ; for he this very day 
receives letters of strange tenor; perchance 
of the Duke's death; perchance entering into 
some monastery; but, b}^ chance, nothing 
of what is writ. Look, the unfolding star 
calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself 
into amazement how these things should be: 
all difficulties are but easy when they are 230 
known. Call your executioner, and off 
with Barnardine's head: I will give him a 
present shrift and advise him for a better 
place. Yet you are amazed; but this shall 

22T. So Milton in Comus: 

"The star that bids the shepherd fold 
Now the top of heaven doth hold." — H. N. H. 



101 



Act IV. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is 
almost clear dawn. [Exeunt, 



Scene III 
Another room in the same. 

Enter Pompey. 

Pom. I am as well acquainted here as I was in 
our house of profession: one would think it 
were Mistress Overdone's own house, for 
here be many of her old customers. First, 
here 's young Master Rash ; he 's in for a 
commodity of brown paper and old ginger, 
nine-score and seventeen pounds; of which 
he made five marks, ready money: marry, 
then ginger was not much in request, for the 
old women were all dead. Then is there here 10 
one Master Caper, at the suit of Master 

235. "resolve"; convince. — C. H. H. 

4. This enumeration of the inhabitants of the prison aflFords a 
very striking view of the practices predominant in Shakespeare's 
age. Besides those whose follies are common to all times, we have 
four fighting men and a traveler. It is not unlikely that the orig- 
inals of the pictures were then known. Rash was a silken stuff 
formerly worn in coats: all the names are characteristic. — H. N. H. 

5-7. "he's in for . . . ready money"; it was the practice of 
money lenders in Shakespeare's time, as well as more recently, to 
make advances partly in goods and partly in cash. The goods were 
to be resold generally at an enormous loss upon the cost price, and 
of these commodities it appears that hroion paper and ginger often 
formed a part. In Green's Defence of Coney-catching, 1592: "If 
he borrow a hundred pound, he shall have forty in silver, and three- 
score in wares; as lute-strings, hobby-horses, or brown paper,"— ^ 
H. N. H. 

102 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. iii. 

Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits 
of peach-colored satin, which now peaches 
him a beggar. Then have we here young 
Dizy, and young Master Deep-vow, and 
Master Copper-spur, and Master Starve- 
lackey the rapier and dagger man, and 
young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, 
and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave 
Master Shooty the great traveler, and wild 20 
Half -can that stabbed Pots, and, I think, 
forty more ; all great doers in our trade, and 
are now 'for the Lord's sake.' 

Enter Abhor son. 

AhUor. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. 
Pom. Master Barnardine! you must rise and 

be hanged, Master Barnardine! 
Abhor. What, ho, Barnardine! 
Bar. [Within'] A pox o' your throats! Who 

makes that noise there? What are you? 
Pom. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You 30 

must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to 

death. 
Bar. [Within] Away, you rogue, away! I am 

sleepy. 
Abhor. Tell him he must awake, and that 

quickly too. 

23. "for the Lord's sake"; it appears from an ancient Epigram, 
that this was the language in which prisoners who were confined for 
debt addressed passengers: "Good gentle writers, for the Lord's 
sake, for the Lord's sake, like Ludgate prisoners, lo, I, begging, 
make my mone." And in Nashe's Peirce Pennilesse, 1593: "At 
that time that thy joys were in the fleeting, and thus crying for the 
Lord's sake out of an iron window." — H. N. H. 
103 



Act IV. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Pom. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you 
are executed, and sleep afterwards. 

Abhor. Go in to him, and fetch him out. 

Pom. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear 40 
his straw rustle. 

Abhor. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah? 

Pom. Very ready, sir. 

Enter Barnardine. 

Bar. How now, Abhorson ? what 's the news 
with you ? 

Abhor. Truly, sir, I M'Ould desire you to clap 
into your prayers; for, look you, the war- 
rant 's come. 

Bar. You rogue, I have been drinking all 
night; I am not fitted for 't. 50 

Po7n. O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all 
night, and is hanged betimes in the morn- 
ing, may sleep the sounder all the next day. 

Abhor. Look you, sir; here comes your ghostly 
father: do we jest now, think you? 

Enter Duke disguised as before. 

Duke. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing 
how hastily you are to depart, I am come to 
advise you, comfort you and pray with you. 

Bar. Friar, not I : I have been drinking hard all 
night, and I will have more time to prepare 60 
me, or they shall beat out my brains with 
billets: I will not consent to die this day, 
that 's certain. 



104 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act IV. Sc. iii. 

Duke. O, sir, you must: and therefore I be- 
seech you 

Look forward on the journey you shall go. 
Bar. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's 

persuasion. 
Duke. But hear you. 
Ba?\ Not a word : if you have any thing to say '^0 

to me, come to my ward ; for thence will not 

I to-day. [Exit. 

Duke. Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart! 

After him, fellows; bring him to the block. 

[Exeunt Abhor son and Pompey. 

Enter Provost. 

Prov. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? 

Duke. A creature unprepared, unmeet for death; 
And to transport him in the mind he is 
Were damnable. 

Prov. Here in the prison, father, 

There died this morning of a cruel fever 
One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate, 80 

A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head 
Just of his color. What if we do omit 
This reprobate till he were well inclined; 
And satisfy the Deputy with the visage 
Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? 

Duke. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! 
Dispatch it presently ; the hour draws on 
Prefix' d by Angelo : see this be done. 
And sent according to command; whiles I 
Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die. 90 

Prov. This shall be done, good father, presently. 

105 



Act IV. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

But Barnardine must die this afternoon: 
And how shall we continue Claudio, 
To save me from the danger that might come 
If he were known alive? 
Duke. Let this be done. 

Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and 

Claudio : 
Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greet- 
ing 
To the under generation, you shall find 
Your safety manifested. 
Prov. I am your free dependant. 100 

Duke. Quick, dispatch, and send the head to 
Angelo lExit Provost. 

Now will I write letters to Angelo, — 
The provost, he shall bear them, — ^whose con- 
tents 
Shall witness to him I am near at home. 
And that, by great injunctions, I am bound 
To enter publicly : him I '11 desire 
To meet me at the consecrated fount, 
A league below the city; and from thence 
By cold gradation and well-balanced form, 
We shall proceed with Angelo. 110 

Re-enter Provost. 

Prov. Here is the head; I '11 carry it myself. 
Duke. Convenient is it. Make a swift return; 

98. "the under" J Hanmer's reading for Ff. yond. — C. H. H. 

109. "well-halanced" ; the original has "tveal-halanc'd form"; which 
may indeed possibly be right, referring to the state — balanc'd for the 
public iceal; but this sense is so far-fetched and improbable, that 
we can scarce think it the Poet's. — H. N. H. 
106 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act IV. Sc. iii. 

For I would commune with you of such things 
That want no ear but yours. 

Prov. I '11 make all speed. [Ea^it. 

Isab. \_Within'] Peace, ho, be here! 

Duke. The tongue of Isabel. She 's come to know 
If yet her brother's pardon be come hither : 
But I will keep her ignorant of her good. 
To make her heavenly comforts of despair. 
When it is least expected. 

Enter Isabella. 

Isab. Ho, by your leave! 120 

Duke. Good morning to you, fair and gracious 

daughter. 
Isab. The better, given me by so holy a man. 

Hath yet the Deputy sent my brother's pardon? 
Duke. He hath released him, Isabel, from the 
world: 

His head is off, and sent to Angelo. 
Isab. Nay, but it is not so. 
Duke. It is no other : show your wisdom, daughter, 

In your close patience. 
Isab. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! 
Duke. You shall not be admitted to his sight. 
Isab. Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! 131 

Injurious world! most damned Angelo! 
Duke. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot; 

Forbear it therefore ; give your cause to heaven. 

Mark what I say, which you shall find 

By every syllable a faithful verity : 

The Duke comes home to-morrow; — ^nay, dry 
your eyes; 

107 



Act IV. Sc. iii. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

One of our covent, and his noiifessor, 
Gives me this instance: ah^eady he hath carried 
Notice to Escalus and Angelo ; 140 

Who do prepare to meet him at the gates, 
There to give up their power. If jon can, pace 

your wisdom 
In that good path that I would wish it go ; 
And you shall have your bosom on this wrench. 
Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart. 
And general honor. 

Isab. I am directed by you. 

Duke, This letter, then, to Friar Peter give; 
'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return: 
Say, by this token, I desire his company 
At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and 
yours 150 

I '11 perfect him withal ; and he shall bring you 
Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo 
Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, 
I am combined by a sacred vow, 
And shall be absent. Wend you with this 

letter : 
Command these fretting waters from your eyes 
With a light heart ; trust not my holy order, 
If I pervert your course. — Who 's here? 

Enter Lucio. 

Lucio. Good even. Friar, where 's the pro- 
vost? 160 
Duke. Not within, sir. 
Lucio. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine 

152. "to the head of Angelo"; to his face. — C. H, H. 
108 



! MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act IV. Sc. iii. 

heart to see thine eyes so red : thou must be 
patient. I am fain to dine and sup with 
water and bran; I dare not for my head 
fill my belly ; one fruitful meal would set me 
to 't. But they say the Duke will be here 
to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved 
thy brother: if the old fantastical Duke of 
dark corners had been at home, he had lived. 170 

[Exit Isabella. 

Duke. Sir, the Duke is marvelous little behold- 
ing to yoiir reports ; but the best is, he lives 
not in them. 

Lucio. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so 
well as I do : he 's a better woodman than 
thou takest him for. 

Duke. Well, j^ou '11 answer this one day. Fare 
ye well. 

Lucio. Nay, tarry; I '11 go along with thee: I 
can tell thee pretty tales of the Duke. 180 

Duke. You have told me too many of him al- 
ready, sir, if thej^ be true; if not true, none 
were enough. 

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a 
wench with child. 

Duke. Did you such a thing? 

Lucio. Yes, marry, did I : but I was fain to for- 
swear it ; they would else have married me to 
the rotten medlar. 

169. "duke of dark corners"; the innuendo is explained by Lucio's 
next speech. — C. H. H. 

173. "he lives not in them"; that is, he depends not on them. — 
H. N. H. 

109 



Act IV. Sc. iv. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. 190 
Rest you well. 

Lucio. By my troth, I '11 go with thee to the 
lane's end : if bawdy talk offend you, we '11 
have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a 
kind of burr ; I shall stick. {Exeunt, 



Scene IV 

A room in Angela's house. 
Enter Angelo and Escalus, 

Escal. Every letter he hath writ hath dis- 
vouched other. 

Ang. In most uneven and distracted manner. 
His actions show much like to madness: 
pray heaven Ijis wisdom be not tainted! 
And why meet him at the gates, and re- 
deliver our authorities there? 

Escal. I guess not. 

Ang. And why should we proclaim it in an 
hour before his entering, that if any crave IQ 
redress of injustice, they should exhibit 
their petitions in the street? 

Escal. He shows his reason for that: to have 
a dispatch of complaints, and to deliver us 
from devices hereafter, which shall then 
have no power to stand against us. 

Ang. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaimed 

6. "redeliver"; Folio 1, "re-liuer"; Folio 2, "delmer"; Capell first 
suggested "redeliver." — I. G. 

no 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act IV. Sc. iv. 

betimes i' the morn ; I '11 call you at your 
house: give notice to such men of sort and 
suit as are to meet him. 20 

Escal. I shall, sir. Fare you well. 
Ang. Good night. \_Eajit Escalus. 

This deed unshapes me quite, makes me un- 

pregnant. 
And dull to all proceedings. A deflower'd 

maid! 
And by an eminent body that enforced 
The law against it ! But that her tender shame 
Will not proclaim against her maiden loss, 
How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares 

her no; 

28-31. This is commonly printed thus: "Yet reason dares her? — 
no: for my authority," &c.; in which case dares has the seijse of 
prompt, challenge, or call forth, as in 1 Henry IV, Act v. sc. 2: 
"Unless a brother should a brother dare 
To gentle exercise and proof of arms." 

"Does reason move her to expose me? — No; the drawings of rea- 
son are all the other way"; which certainly yields an apt and 
clear meaning enough. Yet "We give the passage as it stands in 
the original. Nor is the sense much less clear and apt as there 
printed. For dare, used transitively, may well have, and often 
has, the effect to keep or dissuade one from doing a thing 5 as if 
one should say, — "I dared him to strike me, and he durst not do 
it." So, in the text as we give it, the sense plainly is, — "Yet 
reason bids her not expose me"; the effect of that bidding be- 
ing expressed by noj reason threatens and overawes her, so that she 
dare not do it. Thus, in Beaumont and Fletcher's play, The Chances, 
Act Hi. sc. 4: 

"His sister that you nam'd 'tis true I have long lov'd. 
As true, I have enjoy'd her; no less truth, 
I have a child by her: but that she, or he. 
Or any of that family, are tainted, 
Suffer disgrace, or ruin, by my pleasures, 
I wear a sword to satisfy the world no." 

That is, to satisfy the world that 'tis not so. So, also, in 4 Wife for 
111 



Act IV. Sc. V. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

For my authority bears of a credent bulk, 
That no particular scandal once can touch 30 
But it confounds the breather. He should 

have lived, 
Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous 

sense. 
Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge, 
By so receiving a dishonor'd life 
With ransom of such shame. Would yet he 

had lived! 
Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, 
Nothing goes right: we would, and we would 

not. \_Eajit. 



Scene V 

Fields without the town. 

Enter Duke in his own habit, and Friar Peter. 

Duke. These letters at fit time deliver me: 

[Giving letters. 
The provost knows our purpose and our plot. 
The matter being afoot, keep your instruction, 
And hold you ever to our special drift; 

a Month, by the same authors: "I'm sure he did not, for I charg'd 
him no"; that is, charged him not to do it. But indeed this use 
of no is not uncommon in the old writers. — The of after bears, in 
the next line, seems to have a partitive sense: "For my authority 
carries so much of iveight," &c. — H. N. H. 

29. "bears of a credent bidk"; so Folios 1, 2, 3; many emendations 
have been proposed; Dyce's seems the most plausible — "bears so 
credent bulk"; "credent bidk"=z"\ve\^\. of credit." — I, G. 

in 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act iv. Sc. vi. 

Though sometimes you do blench from this to 

that, 
As cause doth minister. Go call at Flavius' 

house, 
And tell him where I stay: give the like notice 
To Valentius, Rowland, and to Crassus, 
And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate : 
But send me Flavius first. 
Fri. P. It shall be speeded well. [Exit. 10 

Enter Varrius. 

Duke. I thank thee, Varrius ; thou hast made good 
haste : 
Come, we will walk. There 's other of our 

friends 
Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius. 

lExeunt. 

Scene VI 

Street near the city-gate. 
Enter Isabella and Mariana. 

Isah. To speak so indirectly I am loath: 

I would say the truth ; but to accuse him so, 
That is your part : yet I am advised to do it ; 
He says, to veil full purpose. 

Mari. Be ruled by him. 

Isah. Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure 
He speak against me on the adverse side, 
I should not think it strange ; for 'tis a physic 
That 's bitter to sweet end. 

XXIII— 8 113, 



Act IV. Sc. vi. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Mari. I would Friar Peter — 

I sab. O, peace the friar is come. 

Enter Friar Peter. 

Fri. P. Come, I have found you out a stand most 
fit, 10 

Where you may have such vantage on the Duke, 
He shall not pass you. Twice have the trum- 
pets sounded; 
The generous and gravest citizens 
Have hent the gates, and very near upon 
The Duke is entering: therefore, hence, away! 

[Ectjeunt. 

14. "very near upon the duke is entering"; is on the point of 
entering.— C. H. H. 



ill 4 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 



ACT FIFTH 
Scene I 

The city-gate. 

Mariana veiled, Isabella, and Friar Peter, at 
their stand. Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, 
Angela, Escalus, Lucio, Provost, Officers, 
and Citizens, at several doors. 

Duke. My very worthy cousin, fairly met! 

Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see 
you. 

^ * *, V Happy return be to your royal Grace ! 

Duke. Many and hearty thankings to you both. 
We have made inquiry of you ; and we hear 
Such goodness of your justice, that our soul 
Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, 
Forerunning more requital. 

Ang. You make my bonds still greater. 

Duke. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should 
wrong it. 
To lock it in the wards of covert bosom, 1*^ 
When it deserves, with characters of brass, 
A f orted residence 'gainst the tooth of time 

12. "A f orted residence 'gainst"; a residence fortified against. — 
C. H. H. 

16 E 115 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand, 
And let the subject see, to make them know 
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim 
Favors that keep within. Come, Escalus; 
You must walk by us on our other hand : 
And good supporters are you. 

Friar Peter and Isabella come forward. 

Fri. P. Now is your time: speak loud, and kneel 
before him. 

Isab. Justice, O royal Duke ! Vail your regard 20 
Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a 

maid! 
O worthy prince, dishonor not your eye 
By throwing it on any other object 
Till you have heard me in my true complaint. 
And given me justice, justice, justice, justice! 

Duke. Relate your wrongs; in what? by whom? be 
brief. 
Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice: 
Reveal yourself to him. 

Isab. O worthy Duke, 

You bid me seek redemption of the devil: 
Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak 
Must either punish me, not being believed, 31 
Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O heai 
me, here! 

Ang. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm: 
She hath been a suitor to me for her brother 
Cut off by course of justice, — 

Isab. By course of justice! 

Ang. And she will speak most bitterly and strange. 



MEASURE FOH MEASUEE Act V. Sc. 1. 

Isah. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I 
speak : 

That Angelo 's forsworn; is it not strange? 

That Angelo 's a murderer ; is 't not strange ? 

That Angelo is an adulterous thief, 40 

An hypocrite, a virgin-violator; 

Is it not strange and strange? 
Duke. Nay, it is ten times strange. 

Isah. It is not truer he is Angelo 

Than this is all as true as it is strange: 

Nay, it is ten times true ; for truth is truth 

To the end of reckoning. 
Duke. Away with her ! — Poor soul, 

She speaks this in the infirmity of sense. 
Isah. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest 

There is another comfort than this world, 

That thou neglect me not, with that opinion 5<. 

.That I am touch'd with madness! Make not 
impossible 

That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossi- 
ble 

But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground. 

May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute 

As Angelo ; even so may Angelo 

In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms. 

Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince: 

If he be less, he 's nothing; but he 's more. 

Had I more name for badness* 

52. "unlike"; unlikely.— C. H. H. 

5G. "characts" are distinctive marks or characters. A statute of 
Edward VI directs the seals of office of every bishop to have "cer- 
tain characts under the king's arms for the knowledge of the 
diocese." — H. N. H. 

117 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. By mine honesty, 

If she be mad,^as I beheve no other, — 60 

Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense. 
Such a dependency of thing on thing, 
As e'er I heard in madness. 

Isdb. O gracious Duke, 

Harp not on that ; nor do not banish reason 
For inequaHty; but let your reason serve 
To make the truth appear where it seems hid, 
And hide the false seems true. 

Duke. Many that are not mad 

Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would 
you say? 

Isdb. I am the sister of one Claudio, 

Condemn'd upon the act of fornication 70 

To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo: 

I, in probation of a sisterhood, 

Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio 

As then the messenger, — 

Lucio. That 's I, an 't like your Grace : 

I came to her from Claudio, and desired her 
To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo 
For her poor brother's pardon. 

Isab. That 's he indeed ; 

Duke. You were not bid to speak. 

Lucio. No, my good lord; 

Nor wish'd to hold my peace. 

64. "Do not banish reason, For inequalily" ; L e. because of "im- 
probability," "incongruity," or, according to some, "partiality." — 
I. G. 

The meaning appears to be, — "Do not suppose me mad because I 
speak inconsistently or imequally." — H. N. H. 

64-66. That is, — Let your reason serve to discover the truth, wher^ 
it lies hid, and to refute the false, where it seems true. — H. N. H. 
118 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act v. Sc. i. 

Duke, I wish you now, then; 

Pray you, take note of it : and when you have 80 
A business for yourself, pray heaven you then 
Be perfect. 

Lucio. I warrant your honor. 

Duke. The warrant 's for yourself ; take heed to 't. 

Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale, — 

Lucio. Right. 

Duke. It may be right ; but you are i' the wrong 
To speak before your time. Proceed. 

Isab. I went 

To this pernicious caitiff Deputy, — 

Duke. That 's somewhat madly spoken. 

Isab. Pardon it ; 

The phrase is to the matter. 90 

Duke. Mended again. The matter; — proceed. 

Isab. In brief, — ^to set the needless process by, 
How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd. 
How he ref ell'd me, and how I replied, — 
For this was of much length, — the vile conclu- 
sion 
I now begin with grief and shame to utter : 
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body 
To his concupiscible intemperate lust. 
Release my brother; and, after much debate- 

ment. 
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honor, 100 
And I did yield to him: but the next morn be- 
times, 
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant 

90. That is, suited to the matter; as in Hamlet: "The phrase 
would be more german to the matter." — H. N. H, 

119 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

For my poor brother's head. 

Duke. This IS most likely ! 

Isah. O, that it were as like as it is true ! 

Duke. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not 
what thou speak'st. 
Or else thou art suborn' d against his honor 
In hateful practice. First, his integrity 
Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no 

reason 
That with such Vehemency he should pursue 109 
Faults proper to himself : if he had so offended. 
He would have weigh' d thy brother by himself. 
And not have cut him off. Some one hath set 

you on: 
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice 
Thou camest here to complain. 

Isab. And is this all? 

Then, O you blessed ministers above. 
Keep me in patience, and with ripen'd time 
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up 
In countenance! — Heaven shield your Grace 

from woe. 
As I, thus wrong' d, hence unbelieved go! 

Duke. I know you 'Id fain be gone. — An officer! 
To prison with her ! — Shall we thus permit 121 
A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall 
On him so near us ? This needs must be a prac- 
tice. 
Who knew of your intent and coming hither? 

Isab. One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick. 

Duke. A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that 
Lodowick? 

120 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

Lucio. My lord, I know him ; 'tis a meddling friar ; 
I do not like the man: had he been lay, my 

lord. 
For certain words he spake against your Grace 
In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly. 

Duke. Words against me ! this 's a good friar be- 
like! 131 
And to set on this wretched woman here 
Against our substitute! Let this friar be 
found. 

Lucio, But yesternight, my lord, she and that 
friar, 
I saw them at the prison : a saucy friar, 
A very scurvy fellow. 

Fri. P. Blessed be your royal Grace! 

I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard 
Your royal ear abused. First, hath this woman 
Most wrongfully accused your substitute, 140 
Who is as free from touch or soil with her 
As she from one ungot. 

Duke. We did believe no less. 

Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks 
of? 

Fri P. I know him for a man divine and holy; 
Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler, 
As he 's reported by this gentleman ; 
And, on my trust, a man that never yet 
Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace. 

Lucio. My lord, most villainously ; believe it. 

Fri. P. 'Well, he in time may come to clear him- 
self; 150 

128. "had he been lay"; that is, of the laity, a layman. — H. N. H. 
121 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

But at this instant he is sick, my lord, 
Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request, — 
Being come to knowledge that there was com- 
plaint 
Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, — came I hither, 
To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth 

know 
Is true and false ; and what he with his oath 
And all probation will make up full clear, 
Whensoever he 's convented. First, for this 

woman. 
To justify this worthy nobleman. 
So vulgarly and personally accused, • 160 
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes. 
Till she herself confess it. 

Duke. Good friar, let 's hear it. 

[Isabella is carried off guarded; and Mariana 

comes forward. 
Do you not smile at this. Lord Angelo? — 
O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools ! — 
Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo; 
In this I '11 be impartial ; be you judge 
Of your own cause. Is this the witness, friar? 
First, let her show her face, and after speak. 

Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face 
Until my husband bid me. 170 

Duke. What, are you married? 

Mari. No, my lord. 

Duke. Are you a maid? 

Mari. No, my lord. 

Duke. A widow, then? 

Mari. Neither, my lord. 

122 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

Duke, Why, you are nothing, then : — neither maid, 

widow, nor wife? 
Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many 

of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. 180 
Duke. Silence that fellow: I would he had some 
cause 

To prattle for himself. 
Lucio. Well, my lord. 
Mari. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married: 

And I confess, besides, I am no maid: 

I have known my husband ; yet my husband 

Knows not that ever he knew me. 
Lucio. He was drunk, then, my lord: it can 

be no better. 
Duke. For the benefit of silence, would thou 190 

wert so too ! 
Lucio. Well, my lord. 
Duke. This is no witness for Lord Angelo. 
Mari. Now I come to 't, my lord : 

She that accuses him of fornication, 

In self -same manner doth accuse my husband; 

And charges him my lord, with such a time 

When I '11 depose I had him in mine arms 

With all the effect of love. 
Ang. Charges she moe than me? 
Mari. Not that I know. 200 

Duke. No? you say your husband. 
Mari. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, 

Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my 
body. 

But knows he thinks that he kn'^ws Isabel's. 



Act V. Sc. L MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Ang. This is a strange abuse. Let 's see thy face. 

Mari, My husband bids me ; now I will unmask. 

[Unveiling. 
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, 
Which once thou sworest was worth the looking 

on; 
This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract, 
Was fast belock'd in thine ; this is the body 210 
That took away the match from Isabel, 
And did supply thee at thy garden-house 
In her imagined person. 

Duke. Know you this woman? 

Lucio. Carnally, she says. 

Duke. Sirrah, no more ! 

Lucio. Enough, my lord. 

Ang. My lord, I must confess I know this woman: 
And five years since there was some speech of 

marriage 
Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off, 
Partlj^ for that her promised proportions 
Came short of composition; but in chief, 220 
For that her reputation was disvalued 
In levity : since which time of five years 
I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from 

her. 
Upon my faith and honor. 

Mari. Noble prince, 

As there comes light from heaven and words 

from breath, 
As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, 
I am affianced this man's wife as strongly 

124 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act v. Sc. i. 

As words could make up vows: and, my good 

lord, 
But Tuesday night last gone in 's garden-house 
He knew me as a wife. As this is true, 230 
Let me in safety raise me from my knees; 
Or else for ever be confixed here, 
A marble monument ! 
Ang. I did but smile till now: 

Now, good my lord, give me the scope of jus- 
tice ; 
My patience here is touch'd. I do perceive 
These poor informal women are no more 
But instruments of some more mightier mem- 
ber 
That sets them on : let me have way, my lord, 
To find this practice out. 
Duke. Aye, with my heart; 

And punish them to your height of pleasure. 240 
Thou foolish friar ; and thou pernicious woman. 
Compact with her that 's gone, think'st thou 

thy oaths. 
Though they would swear down each particular 

saint. 
Were testimonies against his worth and credit. 
That 's seal'd in approbation? You, Lord Es- 

calus. 
Sit with my cousin ; lend him your kind pains 
To find out this abuse, whence 'tis derived. 
There is another friar that set them on; 
Let him be sent for. 

245. "That's seal'd in apjjrobation?"; stamped or sealed, as tried 
and approved. — H, N. H. 

125 



Acf V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Fri. P. Would he were here, my lord! for he, in- 
deed, 250 
Hath set the women on to this complaint: 
Your provost knows the place where he abides, 
And he may fetch him. 

Duke. Go, do it instantly. [Exit Provost. 

And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin. 
Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth. 
Do with your injuries as seems you best, 
In any chastisement: I for a while will leave 

you; 
But stir not you till you have well determined 
Upon these slanderers. 

Escal. My lord, we '11 do it throughly. [Exit 260 
Duke.~\ Signior Lucio, did not you say you 
knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest 
person? 

Lucio. 'Cucullus non facit monachum:' honest 
in nothing but in his clothes; and one that 
hath spoke most villainous speeches of the 
Duke. 

Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till 
he come, and enforce them against him: we 
shall find this friar a notable fellow. 270 

Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word. 

Escal. Call that same Isabel here once again: 
I would speak with her. [Eccit an Attend- 

254. "well-warranted"; the word warrant was colloquially mono- 
syllabic, as it is still in dialect. — C. H. H. 

255. "forth"; that is, out, to the end.— H. N. H. 

264. "Cuctdlus non facit monachum"; "the cowl does not make a 
monk." It occurs again in Twelfth Night, Act 1.. sc. 5. — H. N. H. 



126 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

ant] Pray you, my lord, give me leave to 
question ; you shall see how I '11 handle her. 

JLucio, Not better than he, by her own report 

Escal. Say you? 

Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her 
privately, she would sooner confess: per- 
chance, publicly, she '11 be ashamed. 280 

Escal. I will go darkly to work with her. 

Lucio, That 's the way ; for women are light 
at midnight. 

Re-enter Officers with Isabella; and Provost with 
the Duke in his friar's habit. 

Escal. Come on, mistress : here 's a gentle- 
woman denies all that you have said. 

Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke 
of; here with the provost. 

Escal. In very good time : speak not you to him 
till we call upon you. 

Lucio. Mum. 290 

Escal. Come, sir: did you set these women on 
to slander Lord Angelo? they have con- 
fessed you did. 

Duke. 'Tis false. 

Escal. How! know you where you are? 

Duke. Respect to your great place! and let the 
devil 
Be sometime honor'd for his burning throne ! 
Where is the Duke? 'tis he should hear me 
speak. 

282. "light"; this is one of the words on which Shakespeare de- 
lights to quibble. Thus Portia, in The Merchant of Venice: "Let 
me give light, but let me not be light."— Yi.. N. H. 

127 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Escal. The Duke 's in us ; and we will hear you 

speak : 
Look you speak justly. 300 

Duke. Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls. 
Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox ? 
Good night to your redress! Is the Duke 

gone ? 
Then is your cause gone too. The Duke 's un- 
just, 
Thus to retort your manifest appeal. 
And put your trial in the villain's mouth 
Which here you come to accuse. 
Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. 
Escal. Why, thou unreverend and unhallow'd 

friar, 
Is 't not enough thou hast suborn'd these 

women 310 

To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth, 
And in the witness of his proper ear. 
To call him villain ? and then to glance from him 
To the Duke himself, to tax him with injustice? 
Take him hence; to the rack with him! We '11 

touse you 
Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose. 
What 'unjust'! 
Duke. Be not so hot ; the Duke 

Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than 

he 
Dare rack his own: his subject am I not, 
Nor here provincial. My business in this state 
Made me a looker-on here in Vienna, 321 

Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble 

128 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

Till it o'er-run the stew; laws for all faults, 

But faults so countenanced, that the strong 
statutes 

Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, 

As much in mock as mark. 
Escal. Slander to the state! Away with him to 

prison ! 
Ang. What can you vouch against him, Signior 
Lucio ? 

Is this the man that you did tell us of? 
Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, good- 330 

man baldpate : do you know me ? 
Duke. I remember you, sir, by the sound of 

your voice: I met you at the prison, in the 

absence of the Duke. 
Lucio. O, did you so? And do you remember 

what you said of the Duke? 
Duke. Most notedly, sir. 
Lucio. Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a 

flesh-monger, a fool, and a coward, as you 

then reported him to be ? 340 

Duke. You must, sir, change persons with me, 

ere you make that my report: you, indeed, 

spoke so of him; and much more, much 

worse. 
Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I 

pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches ? 

325. "These shops," according to Nares, "were places of great 
resort, for passing away time in an idle manner. By way of 
enforcing some kind of regularity, and perhaps at least as much 
to promote drinking, certain laws were usually hung up, the trans- 
gression of which was to be punished by spe'cific forfeitures. It 
is not to be wondered, that laws of that nature were as often 
laughed at as obeyed." — I. G. 

XXIII— 9 129 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Duke. I protest I love the Duke as I love my- 
self. 

Ang. Hark, how the villain would close now, 
after his treasonable abuses! 350 

Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. 
Away with him to prison! Where is the 
provost? Away with him to prison! lay 
bolts enough upon him: let him speak no 
more. Away with those giglets too, and 
with the other confederate companion! 

Duke. ITo the Provost^ Stay, sir; stay 
awhile. 

Ang. What, resists he? Help him, Lucio. 

Lucio. Come, sir ; come, sir ; come, sir ; fob, sir ! 360 
Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must 
be hooded, must you? Show your knave's 
visage, with a pox to you ! show your sheep- 
biting face, and be hanged an hour ! Will 't 
not off? 

[Pulls off the friar's hood, and discovers the Duke. 

Duke. Thou art the first knave that e'er madest a 
Duke. 
First, provost, let me bail these gentle three. 
[To Lucio~\ Sneak not away, sir; for the friar 

and you 
Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him. 

Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging. 370 

364. "he hanged an lioui-" seems to have been a cant phrase, mean- 
ing little more than "be hanged !" — I. G. 

"What, Piper ho! be hang'd awhile," is a line in an old madrigal. 
And in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, we have, — "Leave the bot- 
tle behind you, and be curst aivhile." That is, be hancfd, be curst; 
awhile being, like an hour in the text, merely a vulgar expletive. — 
H. N. H. 

130 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

Duke. [To Escalus] What you have spoke I par- 
don : sit you down. 
We '11 borrow place of him. [To Angela] Sir, 

by your leave. 
Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, 
That yet can do thee office? If thou hast. 
Rely upon it till my tale be heard. 
And no hold longer out. 

Ang. O my dread lord, 

I should be guiltier than my guiltiness. 
To think I can be undiscernible, 
When I perceive your Grace, like power divine, 
Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good 
prince, 380 

]No longer session hold upon my shame. 
But let my trial be mine own confession: 
Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, 
Is all the grace I beg. 

Duke. Come hither, Mariana. 

Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? 

Ang. I was, my lord. 

Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her instantly. 
Do you the office, friar ; which consummate. 
Return him here again. Go with him, provost. 
[JEoceunt Angela, Mariana, Friar Peter and 

Provost. 

Escal. My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonor 
Than at the strangeness of it. 

Duke. Come hither, Isabel. 391 

380. "passes"; probably put for trespasses; or it may mean 
courses, from passees, Fr. Les passees d'un cerf is the track or pas- 
sages of a stag, his courses. — H. N. H. 

131 



Ac> V. Sc. 1. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

Your friar is now your prince : as I was then 
Advertising and holy to your business, 
Not changing heart with habit, I am still 
Attorney'd at your service. 

Isab. O, give me pardon. 

That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd 
Your unknown sovereignty ! 

Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel: 

And now, dear maid, be j^ou as free to us. 
Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart ; 
And you may marvel why I obscured myself, 
Laboring to save his life, and would not rather 
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power 
Then let him so be lost. O most kind maid. 
It was the swift celerity of his death, 403 

Which I did think with slower foot came on. 
That brain'd my purpose. But, peace be 

within him! 
That life is better life, past fearing death. 
Than that which lives to fear : make it your com- 
fort, 
So happy is your brother. 

Isab. I do, my lord. 

Re-enter Angela, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Pro- 
vost. 

Duke. For this new-married man, approaching 
here. 
Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd 410 
Your well-defended honor, you must pardon 

392. "advertising and holy"; attentive and faithful. — H. N. H. 
405. "That brain'd my purpose"; we still use in conversation a 
like phrase: "that knocked my design on the head." — H. N. H. 
132 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act v. Sc. i. 

For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your 

brother, — 
Being criminal, in double violation 
Of sacred chastity, and of promise-breach 
Thereon dependent, for your brother's life, — 
The very mercy of the law cries out 
Most audible, even from his prophet tongue, 
'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!' 
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leis- 
ure; 
Like doth quit like, and measure still for 

MEASURE. 420 

Then, Angelo, thy fault 's thus manifested ; 
Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee 

vantage. 
We do condemn thee to the very block 
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like 

haste. 
Away with him! 
Mari. O my most gracious lord, 

I hope you will not mock me with a husband. 
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a hus- 
band. 
Consenting to the safeguard of your honor, 
I thought your marriage fit ; else imputation. 
For that he knew you, might reproach your life, 

414. "promise-breach" J it should be promise; breach is superfluous. 
— H. N. H. 

420. "measure still for measure"; this appears to have been a 
current expression for retributive justice. So, in 3 Henry VI, Act 
ii. sc. 6: "Measure for measure must be answered." Perhaps the 
proverb grew from the Scripture, — "With what measure ye mete, it 
shall be measured to you again." — H. N. H. 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

And choke your good to come: for his posses- 
sions, 431 

Although by conJEiscation they are ours, 

We do instate and widow you withal. 

To buy you a better husband. 
Mari. O my dear lord, 

I crave no other, nor no better man. 
Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive. 
Mari. Gentle my liege, — [Kneeling. 

Duke. You do but lose your labor. 

Away with him to death! \_To Ludo^ Now, sir, 
to you. 
Mari. O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my 
part; 

Lend me your knees, and all my life to come 

I '11 lend you all my life to do j^ou service. 441 
Duke. Against' all sense you do importune her : 

Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact. 

Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break. 

And take her hence in horror. 
Mari. Isabel, 

Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me; 

Hold up your hands, say nothing, I '11 speak all. 

They say, best men are moulded out of faults; 

And, for the most, become much more the better 

For being a little bad: so may my husband. 450 

O Isabel, will you not lend a knee? 

442. "against all sense" ; that is, against reason and affection. — 
H. N. H. 

443. That is, to beg for mercy on this act. — H. N. H. 

448. On the principle that Nature or Providence often uses our 
vices to scourge down our pride; as in All's Well that Ends Well, 
Act iv. sc. 3: "Our virtues would be proud, if our faults whippM 
them not."— H, N. H. 

134 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act v. Sc. i. 

Duke. He dies for Claudio's death. 

Isab. JNIost bounteous sir, [Kneeling. 

Look, if it please you, 'on this man condemn'd, 
As if my brother Hved : I partly think 
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds. 
Till he did look on me: since it is so, 
Let him not die. My brother had but justice, 
In that he did the thing for which he died : 
For Angelo, 

His act did not o'ertake his bad intent ; 460 

And must be buried but as an intent 
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no sub- 
jects; 
Intents, but merely thoughts. 

Mari. Merely, my lord. 

Duke. Your suit 's unprofitable ; stand up, I say. 
I have bethought me of another fault. 
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded 
At an unusual hour? 

Prov. It was commanded so. 

Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed ? 

Prov. No, mj^ good lord; it was by private mes- 
sage. 

Duke. For which I do discharge you of your office : 
Give up your keys. 

Prov. Pardon me, noble lord: 

I thought it was a fault, but knew it not ; 472 
Yet did repent me, after more advice : 

460^62. That is, like the traveler, who dies on his journey, is 
obscurely interred, and thought of no more: 

"Ilium expirantem 

Obliti ignoto camporum in pulvere linquunt." — H. N. H, 

135 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

For testimony whereof, one in the prison, 
That should by private order else have died, 
I have reserved alive. 

Duke. What 'she? 

Prov. His name is Barnardine. 

Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. 
Go fetch him hither ; let me look upon him. 

[Eccit Provost. 

Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise 

As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd, 480 
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, 
And lack of temper 'd judgment afterward. 

Aug. I am sorry that such sorrow I procure: 
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart. 
That I crave death more willingly than mercy; 
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. 

Be-enter Provost, with Barnardine, Claudio 
muffled, and Juliet. 

Duke. Which is that Barnardine? 

Prov. This, my lord. 

Duke. There was a friar told me of this man. 
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul, 
That apprehends no further than this world. 
And squarest thy life accordingly. Thou 'rt 
condemn' d: 491 

But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all ; 
And pray thee take this mercy to provide 
For better times to come. Friar, advise him ; 
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fel- 
low 's that? 

492, That is, so far as they are punishable on earth, — H, N, H. 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act v Sc. i. 

Prov. This is another prisoner that I saved, 

Who should have died vi^hen Claudio lost his 

head; 
As like almost to Claudio as himself. 

[Unmuffies Claudio. 

Duke. [To Isabella] If he be like your brother, 
for his sake 
Is he pardon'd ; and, for your lovely sake, 500 
Give me your hand, and say j^ou will be mine. 
He is my brother too : but fitter time for that. 
By this Lord Angelo perceives he 's safe ; 
Methinks I see a quickening in his eye. 
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well : 
Look that you love your wife ; her worth worth 

yours. 
I find an apt remission in myself ; 
And yet here 's one in place I cannot pardon. 
[To LtiLcio'] You, sirrah, that knew me for a 

fool, a coward. 
One all of luxury, an ass, a madman ; 510 

Wherein have I so deserved of you. 
That you extol me thus? 

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according 
to the 'rick. If you will hang me for it, 
you may; but I had rather it would please 
you I might be whipt. 

Duke. Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after. 
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city. 
If any woman wrong' d by this lewd fellow, — 

501. "Give me your hand"; i. e. "if you give me your hand." — I. G. 

505. "quits you we/Z"; brings you in a good return. — C. H. H. 

506. "her worth worth yours"; that is, "her vahie is equal to yours; 
the match is not unworthy of 'you." — H. N. H. 

137 



Act V. Sc. i. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

As I have heard him swear himself there 's one 
Whom he begot with child, let her appear, 521 
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd, 
Let him be whipt and hang'd. 

Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry 
me to a whore. Your highness said even 
now, I made you a Duke : good my lord, do 
not recompense me in making me a cuckold. 

Duke. Upon mine honor, thou shalt marry her. 
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal 
Remit thy other forfeits. — Take him to prison; 
And see our pleasure herein executed. 530 

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing 
to death, whipping, and hanging. 

Duke. Slandering a prince deserves it. 

[Eoceunt Officers with Lucio. 
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you re- 
store. 
Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: 
I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue. 
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much 

goodness : 
There 's more behind that is more gratulate. 
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy : 
We shall employ thee in a worthier place. 540 
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home 
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's: 
The offense pardons itself. Dear Isabel, 
I have a motion much imports your good ; 

529. "forfeits"; Dr. Johnson says, forfeits means punishments; 
but is it not more likely to signify misdoings, transgressions, from 
the French for fait? Steevens's note affords instances of the word 
in this sense. — H. N. H. 

138 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE Act V. Sc. i. 

Whereto if j^ou '11 a willing ear incline, 

What 's mine is yours, and what is yours is 

mine. 
So, bring us to our palace ; where we '11 show 
What 's yet behind, that 's meet you all should 

know. [Exeunt. 



1S9 



GLOSSARY 

By Israel Gollancz, M.A. 



Absolute, decided; "be abs.," i. e. 

"make up your mind"; III. i. 

5; perfect; V. i. 54. 
Abuse, delusion; V. i. 205. 
Accommodations, comforts; III. 

i. 14. 
Advertise, instruct; I. i. 42. 
Advertising, instructing; V. i. 

392. 
Advice, consideration; V. i. 473. 
Affection, feeling; II. iv. 168. 
Affections, passions; III. i. 108. 
After, at the rate of; II. i. 267. 
AiL-BuiLDiNG, being the ground 

and foundation of all; II. iv. 

94 (other suggested emenda- 
tions; all-binding; all-holding). 
Appliances, remedies, means ; 

III. i. 89. 
Appointment, equipment; III. i. 

60. 
Approbation; "receive her ap.," 

L e. enter upon her probation; 

I. ii. 191. 
As, though indeed; II. iv. 89. 
Avised, advised, aware; II. 11. 

132. 

Bark, peel away; III. 1. 72. 

Bastard (used equivocally), a 
kind of sweet wine; III. ii. 4. 

Bay, an architectural term for a 
division of a building, marked 
by the single windows or other 
openings ( ? an error for 
"day"); II. i. 268. 



Beholding, beholden; IV. 111. 

171. 
Belongings, endowments; I. 1. 

30. 
Billets, small logs of wood; IV. 

iii. Q2. 
Bite by the nose, to treat with 

contempt; III. i. 109. 
Blench, start away; IV. v. 5. 
Boldness, confidence; IV. ii. 171. 
Bonds, obligations; V. i. 8. 
Boot, advantage, profit; II. iv. 

11. 
Bore in hand, kept in expecta- 
tion; I. iv. 51-2. 
Borne up, devised; IV. 1. 48. 
Bosom, heart's desire; IV. iii. 144. 
Bottom, "to look into the b. of 

my place," i. e. "to know it 

thoroughly"; I. i. 79. 
Bravery, finery; I. iii. 10. 
Breeds, "my sense b. with it," 

i. e. "many new thoughts are 

awakened by it in me"; II. ii. 

142. 
Bunch of grapes, name of a 

room; It was the custom to 

name the several rooms in 

taverns; II. 1. 141. 

Censure, to pass judgment, or 

sentence, upon; I. iv. 72; II. i. 

29. 
Character, writing, outward 

mark; I. 1. 28; handwriting; 

IV. ii. 216. 



140 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Glossary 



Characts, characters; V. i. 56. 
Cheap, of small value; III. i. 

18T. 
CiRCUMMTJRED, walled round; IV. 

i. 28. 
Clack-dish, a wooden dish or 

box carried by beggars; III. 

ii. 145. 
Clap, to begin without delay; 

IV. iii. 46. 
Close, to make peace, come to 

an agreement; V. i. 349. 
Close, silent, secret; IV. iii. 128. 
Cold, cool, deliberate; IV. iii. 

109. 
CoMBiNATE, betrothed; III. i. 

236. 
Combined, bound; IV. iii. 154. 
Comes off well, is well told; II. 

i. 59. 
Commodity, quantity of wares, 

parcel; IV. iii. 6. 
Compact, leagued; V. i. 242. 
Composition, compact; V. i. 220. 
Concerning, "c. her observance," 

t. e. "which it concerns her to 

observe"; IV. i. 42. 
CoNCUPisciBLE, concupiscent ; V. 

i. 98. 
j Confixed, fixed; V. i. 232. 
! Conserve, preserve; III. i. 88. 
Constantly, firmly; IV. i. 21. 
Consummate, being consum- 
mated; V. i. 388, 
Continue, blunderingly misun- 
derstood by Elbow to refer to 

some penalty or other; II. i. 

210; to let live; IV. iii. 93. 
CoNTRARious, Contradictory ; IV. 

i. 62. 
Convenient, fitting; IV. iii. 112. 
Convented, summoned; V. i. 158. 
Countenance, hypocrisy; V. i. 

118. 
CovENT, convent; IV. iii. 138. 



Creation; "their cr.," i. e. "their 

(men's) nature"; II. iv. 127. 
Credent bulk, weight of credit; 

IV. iv. 29. 
Credulous, readily yielding; II. 

iv. 130. 
"CucuLLus non facit monachum," 

L e. "All hoods make not 

monks"; V. i. 264. 
Cunning, sagacity; IV. ii. 171. 

Defiance, rejection, refusal; III. 
1. 143. 

Definitive, resolved; V. i. 436. 

Delighted, accustomed to ease 
and delight; III. i. 121. 

Denunciation, declaration; I. ii. 
160. 

Deputation, deputyship; I. i. 21. 

Desperately; "d. mortal," i. e. 
"terribly near death"; others, 
"desperate in his incurring of 
death"; "destined to die with- 
out hope of salvation"; IV. ii. 
159. 

Detected, charged, accused; III. 
ii. 138. 

Determined, limited, bounded ; 
III. i. 70. 

Determines, assigns; I. i. 39. 

Detest, Elbow's blunder for 
"protest"; II. i. 72. 

Discover, recognize; IV. ii. 192. 

Discover, expose; III. i. 202. 

Dispenses with, excuses; III. i. 
135. 

Dissolution, death; III. ii. 252. 

Disvalued, depreciated; V. i. 221. 

DisvoucHED, contradicted; IV. iv. 
1. 

Dolors, used quibblingly with 
play upon "dollar"; I. ii. 54. 

Draw, "as it refers to the tap- 
ster it signifies to drain, to 
empty"; as it is related to 
"hang" it means "to be con- 



141 



Glossary 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



veyed to execution on a hur- 
dle," in Froth's answer it is 
the same as "to bring along 
by some motive or power"; II. 
i. 226. 

Drawn jn, taken in, swindled; 
II. i. 231. 

Dressings, habiliments; V. i. 56. 

Dribbling, weak; I. iii. 2. 

Effects, expressions; III. i. 24. 
Emmew, to coop up, "to force to 

lie in cover without daring to 

show themselves"; III. i, 91. 
Enshield, concealed, enclosed; 

II. iv. 80. 
Ensky'd, placed in heaven; I. iv. 

34. 
Entertain, desire to keep; III. 

i. 75. 
Escapes, sallies; IV. i. 63, 
Estimation, reputation; IV. ii. 

29. 
Evasion, excuse; I. i. 51. 
Evils, privies; II. ii. 172. 

Fact, crime; IV. ii. 147. 

False, illegal; II. iv. 49. 

Falsely, dishonestly, illegally ; 
II. iv. 47. 

Fault; "fault and glimpse," i. e. 
the faulty glimpse; a fault 
arising from the mind being 
dazzled by a novel authority; 
I. ii. 170. 

Favor, used equivocally with a 
play upon "favor"="counte- 
nance"; IV. ii. 33; face; IV. ii. 
192. 

Fear, affright; II. i. 2. 

Fear, "to give fear,"="to intimi- 
date"; I. iv. 62. 

Feodary (so Folios 2, 3, 4; Fol. 
1 fedarie), originally one who 
holds an estate by suit or serv- 
ice to a superior lord, hence 



one who acts under the direc- 
tion of another; here, "one of 
the human fraternity"; II. iv. 
122. 

Fewness and truth, briefly and 
truly; I. iv. 39. 

File, multitude; III. ii. 144. 

Fine, punish; II. ii. 40; III. i. 
115. 

Fine, punishment; II. ii. 40. 

Flourish, adorn; IV. i. 75. 

Flowery tenderness, i. e. a ten- 
der woman "whose action is no 
stronger than a flower" (cp. 
Sonnet lxv. 4) ; III. i. 83. 

FoisoN, plenty; I. iv. 43. 

Fond, foolish; II. ii. 187; V. i. 
105; foolishly overprized; II. ii. 
149. 

Foppery, folly ; I. ii. 146. 

Forfeit, liable to penalty; III. ii. 
220. 

"For the Lord's sake," the sup- 
plication of imprisoned debtors 
to the passers-by; IV. iii. 23. 

Free, liberal; V. i. 397. 

French crown, a bald head pro- 
duced by a certain disease; 
used equivocally; I. ii. 56. 

Garden-house, summer-house; V. 
i. 212. 

General, populace; II. iv. 27. 

Generation, race; IV. iii. 98. 

Generative, (?) begot; "a mo- 
tion g."; "a puppet born of a 
female being" (but probably 
Theobald's emendation is cor- 
rect — "ungenerative") ; III. ii. 
126. 

Generous and gravest, i. e. most 
generous and most grave; IV. 
vi. 13. 

Ghostly, spiritual; IV. iii. 54. 

GiGLETs, giglots, wantons; V. 1. 
355. 



142 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Glossary 



Glassy essence, "that essential 
nature of man which is like 
glass, from its faculty to re- 
flect the image of others in its 
own, and from its fragility, its 
liability tp injury or destruc- 
tion"; II. ii, 120. 

Grace, good fortune, happiness; 
I. iv. 69. 

Gradation, regular advance from 
step to step; IV. iii. 109. 

Grange, a solitary farmhouse; 

III. i. 286. 

Gratulate, gratifying; V. i. 538. 
Gravel, flinty; IV. iii. 73. 
Guard, "stands at a guard with," 

i. e. "is on his guard against"; 

I. iii. 51. 
Guards, facings, trimmings; III. 

i. 97. 

Hannibal, Elbow's error for 

"cannibal"; II. i. 193, 
Happily, haply; IV. ii. 102. 
Heavy, drowsy, sleepy; IV. i. 35. 
Helmed, directed; III. ii. 162. 
He NT, seized, taken possession of; 

IV. vi. 14. 

Hide, suppress; V. i. 67. 

His, its; IV. i. 31. 

Home and home, to the quick; 

IV. iii. 153. 
Hot-house, bathing-house; II. i. 

69. 

Ignomy (so Folio 1)^ ignominy 

(which word suits the meter 

better) ; II. iv. 111. 
Impartial, taking no part; V. 1. 

166. 
Imports, carries with it; V. i. 108. 
Importune, urge; I. i. 57. 
Incertain, unsettled, vague; III. 

i. 127. 
Informal, insane; V. i. 236. 
In good time, so be it, very well; 

III. i. 185. 



Iniquity, vide Justice. 
Insensible of, indifferent to; IV. 

ii. 158. 
Instance, intimation ; IV. iii. 139. 
Invention, imagination; II. iv. 3. 
Inward, intimate friend; III. ii. 

149. 

purposes; I. i. 37. 



Journal, diurnal; IV. iii. 97. 

Justice or Iniquity; "that is the 
constable or the fool; Escalus 
calls the latter Iniquity in al- 
lusion to the old Vice, a fa- 
miliar character in the ancient 
moralities and dumb shows"; 
II. i. 190. 

Keeps, dwells; I. iii. 10. 

Lapwing ("the bird diverts at- 
tention from its nest by flying 
to a distance and attracting 
the sportsman there by flutter- 
ing") ; I. iv. 32. 

Leaven'd, well fermented, ripen- 
ed; I. i. 52. 

Leiger, a resident ambassador at 
a foreign court; III. i. 59. 

Like, likely to be believed; V. i. 
104. 

Limit, appointed time; III. i. 
228. 

Libiited, appointed; IV. ii. 183. 

Lists, bounds, limits; I. i. 6. 

Loss OF QUESTION, absencc of any 
better argument; II. iv. 90. 

Lower chair, an easy chair; II. 
i. 140. 

Luxury, lust; V. i. 510. 

Meal'd, sprinkled; IV. ii. 89. 
Medlar, used wantonly for 

"woman"; IV. iii. 189. 
Mere, particular; V. i. 152. 
Meter (refers probably to the an- 



143 



Glossary 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



cient metrical graces arranged 

to be said or sung) ; I. ii. 23. 
MoE, more; "moe thousand 

deatlis," i. e. "a thousand more 

deaths"; III. i. 40. 
Mortality, death; I. i. 45. 
Mother, abbess; I. iv. 86. 
Motion, a thing endowed with 

movement; III. i. 120. 
Mystery, trade; IV. ii. 32. 

Nature, life; II, iv. 43. 

No; "reason dares her no," i. e. 

"admonishes her not to do it"; 

IV. iv. 28. 

Obstruction, stagnation of the 

blood; III. i. 119. 
Office, service; V. i. 374. 
Omit, pass by; IV. iii. 82. 
Opposite, opponent; III. ii. 188. 
Owe, possess, have; I. iv. 83; II. 

iv. 123. 

Pace, to make to go (lit. to teach 

a horse to move according to 

the will of the rider) ; IV. iii. 

142. 
Pain, penalty; II. iv. 86. 
Pain'd, put to trouble; V. i. 396. 
Parcel-bawd, part bawd; II. i. 

66. 
Part; "my p. in him," L e. "my 

office delegated to him" ; I. i. 42. 
Partial; "nothing come in p.," 

L e. "no partiality be allowed"; 

II. i. 31. 
Particular, private; IV. iv. 30. 
Passes, proceedings; V. i. 380. 
Passing on, i. e. passing sentence 

on; II. i. 19. 
Peaches, impeaches; IV. iii. 13. 
Pelting, paltry; II. ii. 112. 
Perdurably, everlastingly; III. i. 

115. 
Philip and Jacob, i. e. the fast 



of St. P. and St. J. (xMay 1st) ; 
III. ii. 228. 

Piled, "a quibble between piled, 
peeled, stripped of hair, bald 
(from the French disease), and 
piled as applied to velvet ; 
three-piled velvet meaning the 
finest and costliest"; I. ii. 37. 

Planched, planked; IV. i. 30. 

Pluck on, draw on; II. iv. 147. 

Possess'd, informed; IV. i. 44. 

Practice, plot; V. i. 107, 123. 

Precept, instruction; "in action 
all of p."="with actions in- 
tended to instruct me" (i e. 
showing the several turnings of 
the way with his hand) ; IV. i. 
40. 

Prefers itself, places itself be- 
fore everything else; I. i. 55. 

Pregnant, expert; I. i. 12; evi- 
dent; II. i. 23. 

Prenzie, prim; III. i. 94, 97. 

Present; "p. shrift," i. e. "imme- 
diate absolution"; IV. ii. 233. 

Presently, immediately; IV. iii. 
87. 

Preserved, kept pure; II. ii. 153. 

Prints, impressions; II. iv. 130. 

Probation, proof; V. i. 157. 

Profanation, Elbow's blunder 
for "profession"; II. i. 56. 

Profession, business; IV. iii. 2. 

Profiting, taking advantage; II. 
iv. 128. 

Prolixious, tiresome and hinder- 
ing; II. iv. 162. 

Prone and speechless, probably 
to be considered as equivalent 
to "speechlessly prone," i. e. 
speaking fervently and eagerly 
without words, (or perhaps 
"prone"= deferential) ; I. ii. 
196. 

Proper, own; III. i. 30; person- 
ally, peculiarly; I. i. 31, 



}M 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Glossary 



Proper to, belonging to; V. i. 
110. 

Proportion, measure; I. ii. 21. 

Proportioxs, i3ortion, fortune; V. 
i. 219. 

Provincial; "here p."="under 
the jurisdiction of this ec- 
clesiastical province"; V. i. 320. 

Provokest, invokest; III. i. 18. 

Put, compelled; I. i. 5. 

PuTTiNG-ON, incitement; IV. li. 
124. 

Qualify, check; IV. ii. 89. 
Question, consideration; I. i. 47. 
Quests, spyings; IV. i. 62. 
Quit, acquit, forgive; V. 1. 492. 

Race, natural disposition; II. iv. 

160. 
Rack, distort; IV. i. 65. 
Ravin down, ravenously devour; 

I. ii. 141. 

Rebate, make dull; I. iv. 60, 
Received, understood; II. iv. 82. 
Refell'd, refuted; V. i. 94. 
Remission ; "apt r."= a ready 

pardon, readiness to forgive; 

V. i. 507. 
Remonstrance, demonstration ; 

V. i. 400. 
Remorse, pity; II. ii, 54; V. i. 

100. 
Remove, absence; I. i. 44. 
Renouncement, renunciation of 

the world; I. iv. 35. 
Resolve, inform; III. i, 197. 
Respected, misapplied by Elbow 

and Pompey (= suspected) ; 

II. i. 180, 183. 
Restrained, forbidden; II. iv, 48. 
Retort, "to refer back (to An- 

gelo the cause in which you 
appealed from Angelo to the 
Duke)"; V. i. 305. 



Salt, lustful; V. i, 410. 

Satisfy your resolution, sustain 

your courage; III. i. 172. 
Saucy, wanton; II. iv. 45. 
Scaled, weighed; (or perhaps 
"stripped" as of scales, un- 
masked; "foiled" has been sug- 
gested as an emendation) ; III. 
i. 274. 
Scope, power; I. i. 65; license; 

I. ii. 139; I. iii. 35. 
Scruple, very small quantity; I. 
i. 38; doubtful perplexity; I. 
i. 65. 
Secondary, subordinate; I. i, 47. 
Sects, classes, ranks; II. ii. 5. 
See = Rome; III. ii. 248. 
Seeming, hypocrisy; II. iv. 150. 
Seldom when, i. e. 'tis seldom 

that; IV. ii. 92. 
Serpigo, a dry eruption on the 

skin; III. i. 31. 
Several, different; II. iv. 2. 
Shears; "there went but a pair 
'of shears between us," i. e. "we 
are both of the same piece"; 
I. ii. 30. 
Sheep-biting, thievish; V. i. 363. 
Shield, forefend; "Heaven s. my 
mother play'd my father fair," 
i. e. "God grant that thou wert 
not my father's true son"; III. 
i. 141. 
Shrewd, evil, mischievous; II. i. 

276. 
S I c L e s (the Folios "sickles"), 

shekels; II. ii. 149. 
Siege, seat; IV. ii. 104. 
SiTH, since; I. iii. 35, 
Smack, have a taste, savor; II. ii. 

5. 
Snatches, repartees; IV. ii. 6. 
Sort and suit, rank and service 
(i. e. suit-service, due to a su- 
perior lord) ; IV. iv. 19. 



XXIII— 10 



145 



Glossary 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Soul, "with special s.," i. e. with 

special liking; I. i. 18. 
Spare, forbear to offend; II, iii. 

33. 
Splay, (so first Folio; Steevens 

"spay"), to castrate; II. i. 255. 
Stage, to make a show of; I. i. 

69. 
. Stagger, waver, hesitate; I. ii. 

177. 
Starkly, stiffly, as if dead; IV. 

ii. 74. 
Stays upon, waits for; IV. i. 47. 
Stead, be of service to; I. iv. 17. 
Stead up, to supply; III. i. 268. 
Stew, cauldron; V. i. 323. 
Story, subject of mirth; I. iv. 30. 
Straitness, strictness; III. ii. 

289. 
Stricture, strictness; I. iii. 12. 
Succeed, inherit; II. iv. 123, 
Sufferance, suffering; III. i. 80. 
Sweat; the plague was popularly 

known as "the sweating sick- 
ness"; I. ii. 84. 
Sweetness, self-indulgence; II. iv. 

45. 
Swinged, whipped; V. i. 130, 

Tax, accuse; II. iv, 79. 

Temporary meddler, one who 
meddles with temporal matters ; 
V. i. 145. 

Terms; "the technical language 
of the courts. An old book 
called Les Termes de la Ley 
was in Shakespeare's days, and 
is now, the accidence of young 
students in the law" (Black- 
stone) ; I. i. 11. 

Tickle, unstable; I. ii. 185, 

Tick-tack, a sort of backgam- 
mon (used equivocally) ; I. ii. 
204. 

Tilth, tillage; I. iv. 44. 



Tithe (probably an error for , 

"tilth") ; IV. i. 76. 
Touches, vices; III. ii. 25, 
Touse, pull, tear; V, i, 315. 
Trade, custom, established habit; 

III. i. 149. 
Transport, remove from one 

world to another; IV, iii. 77, 
Trick, fashion; V, i. 514, 
Trot, a contemptuous name, ap- 
plied properly to an old 

woman; III. ii. 54. 
Trumpets, trumpeters ; IV. v. 9. 
Tub, the sweating-tub, used as a 

cure for certain diseases; III. 

ii. Q2. 
Tun-dish, funnel; III. ii. 194. 



Unfolding, releasing from the 
fold or pen; IV. ii. 227. 

Ungenitured, (?) impotent (per- 
haps "unbegotten") ; III. ii. 
196. 

Ungot, not begotten; V. i. 142. 

Unpitied, unmerciful; IV. ii. 14. 

Unpregnant, unready, inapt ; 
IV. iv. 23. 

Unshunned, inevitable; III. ii. 
62, 

Unsisting, probably a misprint 
(in Folios 1, 2, 3) for "insist- 
ing" (the reading of Fol. 4), 
i. e. "persistent"; IV. ii. 95. 

Untrussing, "untying the points 
or tagged laces which attached t 
the hose or breeches to the 
doublet"; III. ii. 203. 

Unweighing, injudicious; III. ii. 
158. 

Use, practices long countenanced 
by custom; I, iv, 62. 

Use, interest, probably with a 
secondary sense of "exertion"; 
I. i. 41. 



14^ 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE 



Glossary 



Vail your regard, lower your 

look; V. i. 20. 
Vain, "for v."=in vain, to no 

purpose; II. iv. 12. 
Vantage, "denies thee v.," i. e. 

"will avail thee nothing"; V. i. 

422. 
Vastidity, vastness; III. i. 69. 
Veil full purpose, to cover his 

full p.; IV. vi. 4. 
Viewless, invisible; III. 1. 124. 
Virtuous, beneficial; II. ii. 168. 
Voice, "in my v."^"in my 

name"; I. ii. 193. 
Vouch, affirmation; II. iv. 156. 
Vulgarly, publicly; V. i. 160. 

Warp, deviate; I. i. 15. 

Warped, crooked, wry, unnatural; 

III. i. 142. 
Wear, fashion; III. ii. 83. 
Weeds, "weed is a term still com- 



monly applied to an ill-condi- 
tioned horse" (Collier) ; emen- 
dations proposed: "steeds," 
"wills"; I. iii. 20. 

Who = which ; I. ii. 203. 

Widow, to give as jointure; V. i. 
433. 

Wilderness, wildness; III. i. 142. 

Woodman, one who hunts female 
game; IV. iii. 175. 

Wrong, "done myself w.," i. e. 
"put myself in the wrong"; I. 
ii. 45. 

Yare, ready; IV. ii. 64. 

Yield, "y. you forth to public 
thanks," i. e. "yield public 
thanks to you"; V. i. 7. 

Zodiacs, circuits of the sun, 
years; I. ii. 180. 



17 E 



147 



STUDY QUESTIONS 

By Anne Throop Craig 



1. What esthetic and metrical tests assist in fixing the 
date of the play's composition? 

2. Cite the links between this play and Hamlet. What 
is the difference in the problems with Avhich the two plaj^s 
deal? 

3. What other characters in the plays does Isabella re- 
semble, and in what respects? 

4. What are the sources of the plot? 

5. In what ways has Shakespeare's version developed 
and transcended the originals? 

6. What are the peculiarly marked features in the man- 
ner, cast of thought, and ethics of the play? 

7. What religious faction in the time of James I may 
have led Shakespeare to the composition of this play? 
Why? Trace the analogy between its sentiments and the 
theme of the play. 

8. Comment upon the selection of the theme for a work 
of art. What elements of the Poet's handling of it make 
its selection justifiable? 

9. What is the inference to be drawn concerning the 
underlying motives of the Duke in carrying out his incog- 
nito ? 

10. What constitutes the etiios of the theme? 

11. What circumstances make Angelo's severity towards 
Claudio peculiarly hypocritical in their austerity, even be- 
fore the cause of Isabella is introduced? 

12. Explain what it is in the handling of values in the 
piece, that make its effect harsh? 

148 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE study Questions 



13. What does the Duke announce he Is about to do? 

14. What does he really do instead.? 

15. By what sort of description is Angelo introduced? 

16. To what condition of the city are we introduced? 
What may we suppose to have caused the state it is in? 
What characters give us clues to this condition? 

17. What circumstances in the situation between Claudio 
and his betrothed make it unjust to visit upon him the ex- 
tremity of the new rigor? 

18. In what does Claudio place his only hope of re- 
prieve ? 



19. What characterizes the bearing of Isabella before 
Angelo ? 

20. Do any lines of Angelo's imply that his own pride 
in his austerity caused a self deception in him, more than 
hypocrisy, at first? 

21. What are his reflections immediately before the sec- 
ond coming of Isabella? What do they show of his state 
of mind? 

22. How does Isabella receive his advances? 

23. Of what is she confident with regard to her brother's 
view of the case? 

24. What aspects of the situation does the Duke learn 
from Juliet, when he is in the prison disguised as a Friar? 



25. What is striking and beautiful in the Duke's dis- 
course to Claudio in the prison when he affects to persuade 
him to be ready for death? 

26. Does the Duke's desire to overhear the conversation 
between Isabella and Claudio emphasize his suspicion of 
Angelo ? 

27. Describe the scene between Isabella and Claudio. 
How does it express the spirit of each? What temporary 

149 



study Questions MEASURE FOR MEASURE 

emotion may explain Claudio's wavering? What is the 
character of his reasoning while in this state of mind? 

28. What does the Duke tell Claudio is the state of the 
case? Why does he tell him this? 

29. What has the Duke known of Angelo's past that 
he believes he can bring usefully into the situation at this 
juncture? 

30. Is it possible that his knowledge of this fact has in- 
fluenced him to penetrate Angelo's outward sainthood? 

31. What picture of Mariana and her sorrows is drawn? 

32. How does Lucio express himself concerning the 
Duke? 

33. What is the purpose of bringing the group of low 
characters into contrast with the Duke? 

34. What does Escalus say of his efforts with Angelo? 

35. What are the Duke's reflections closing; the Act? 



36. What eff*ect is gained by the introduction of Bar- 
nardine ? 

37. What news arrives from Angelo when the Provost 
expects Claudio's pardon? 

38. In the talk concerning Barnardine what is revealed 
concerning the methods of the Duke's government? 

39. What does the Duke tell the Provost to do to elude 
the mandates he has received from Angelo? 

40. What is contributed to the setting by the introduc- 
tion of Pompey's account of the fellow-prisoners he en- 
counters ? 

41. What commission does the Duke give Isabella after 
telling her that Claudio has been killed? 

42. Does Lucio betray any redeeming emotions? 

43. What messages do Angelo and Escalus receive that 
puzzle them, with regard to the Duke's purposes ? 

44. What truth does Angelo's final reflection in scene iv 
emphasize, with regard to the development of a course of 
crime? 

150 



MEASURE FOR MEASURE study Questions 

45. What undertaking does the Duke commit to Friar 
Peter? How are he, Isabella, and Marianna prepared to 
carry the disclosures of the Duke to their fulfillment? 



46. Does the Duke's first greeting to Angelo and Es- 
calus convey to them any idea of his intents? 

47. How do Isabella, Friar Peter, and Marianna pre- 
sent the case they have in hand, to the Duke? What is 
the effect of their several presentations, superficially, upon 
Angelo and the bystanders at first? 

48. How does the Duke pretend to receive it? What 
does he command concerning Isabella? 

49. Upon whom does Angelo try to turn the suspicion 
of the Duke? 

50. How does the Duke bring matters to their con- 
clusion when he enters disguised as the Friar again? 

51. How does Lucio get caught in his own trap? 

52. What draws his confession from Angelo? 

53. How is the pardon of Angelo obtained? What is 
the moralization to be inferred from Isabella's words re- 
garding his sin? 

54. What appropriate justice is meted to Lucio? 

55. Comment on the conclusion as it relates to Isabella. 



151 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII 



All the unsigned footnotes in this volume are by the 
writer of the article to which they are appended. The in- 
terpretation of the initials signed to the others is: I. G. 
= Israel Gollancz, M.A. ; H. N. H.^ Henry Norman 
Hudson, A.M.; C. H. H.= C. H. Herford, Litt.D. 



PREFACE 

By Israel, Gollancz, M.A. 

THE FIRST EDITION 

The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the 
Eighth was printed for the first time in the First Foho. 
There was no Quarto edition of the play. 

The text of the play is singularly free from corrup- 
tions ; the Acts and Scenes are indicated throughout ; ^ the 
stage-directions are full and explicit.^ Rowe first supplied, 
imperfectly, the Dramatis Persons. 

DATE OF COMPOSITION 

Henry the Eighth was undoubtedly acted as "a new 
play" on June 29, 1613, and resulted in the destruction by 
fire of the Globe Theater on that day. The evidence on 
this point seems absolutely conclusive:— 

(i) Thomas Lorkin, in a letter dated "this last of 
June" 1613, referring to the catastrophe of the previous 
day, says: "No longer since than yesterday, while Bour- 
bage his companie were acting at the Globe the play of 
Henry VIII, and their shooting of certayne chambers in the 
way of triumph, the fire catch'd," etc. 

1 Except in the case of Act V. scene iii., where no change of 
scene is marked in the folio. "Exeunt" is not added at the end of 
the previous scene, but it is quite clear that the audience was to 
imagine a change of scene from the outside to the inside of the 
Council-chamber. The stage-direction runs: — "A Councell Table 
brought in with Chayres and StooleS, and placed under the state," 
etc. 

2 The lengthy stage-direction at the beginning of Act V. Sc. v. 
was taken straight from Holinshed; similarly, the order of the 
Coronation in Act IV. sc- i. 



Preface THE LIFE OF 

(ii) Sir Henry Wotton, writing to his nephew on July 
2, 1613, tells how the Globe was burnt down during the 
performance "of a new play, called All is True,^ represent- 
ing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry the 8th. 
Now, King Henry making a Masque at the Car- 
dinal Wolsey's House, and certain cannons being shot off 
at his entry,^ some of the paper, and other stuff, where- 

1 Cp. Prologue to Henry VIII, 11. 9, 18, 21:— 

"May here find truth." 

"To rank our chosen truth with such a show." 

"To make that only true we now intend." 

The second name of the play may very well have been a counter- 
blast to the title of Rowley's Chronicle History of Henry 8th, 
"When you see me you know me," and perhaps also of Heywood's 
plays on Queen Elizabeth, "If you knoio not me, you know no 
body." It is possible that both Prologue and Epilogue of Henry 
Vlil refer to Rowley's play, "the merry bawdy play," with its "fool 
and fight," and its "abuse of the city." 

"When you see Me" was certainly "the Enterlude of K. Henry 
VIII" entered in the Stationers' Books under the date of February 
12, 1604 (-5), which has sometimes been identified with Shakespeare's 
play. 

It is noteworthy that the play, first published in 1605, was re-issued 
in 1613. The same is true of the First Part of Heywood's play. 
This play of Heywood's called forth the well-known prologue, 
wherein the author protested 

"That some by stenography drew 
The plot: put it in print: scarce one word trew." 

Similarly, the Chronicle History of Thomas Lord Cromwell, orig- 
inally printed in 1602, was re-issued in 1613 with the mendacious or 
equivocal statement on the title-page, "written by W. 8." 

We know from Henslowe's Diary that there were at least two 
plays on Wolsey which held the stage in 1601, 1602, The Rising of 
Cardinal Wolsey, by Munday, Drayton & Chettle, and Cardinal 
Wolsey, by Chettle. 

An edition of Rowley's play, by Karl Elze, with Introduction and 
Notes, was published in 1874 (Williams & Norgate). 

2 Vide Act I. sc. iv. 44-51, with stage direction: — "Chambers dis- 
charged." 



KING HENRY VIII Preface 

with one of them was stopped, did hght on the thatch," 
etc. 

(iii) John Chamberlain, in a letter to Sir Ralph Win- 
wood {vide Winwood's Memorials), dated July 12, 1613, 
alludes to the burning of the theater, "which fell out by a 
peale of chambers (that I know not upon what occasion 
were to be used in the play)." 

(iv) Howes, in his continuation of Stowe's Chronicle 
(1615) says that the fire took place when the house was 
"filled with people, to behold the play, viz., of Henry 
the 8." 

(v) Ben Jonson, in his Execration vpon Vulcan, refers 
to "that cruel strategem against the Globe" 

"The fort of the whole parish, 
I saw with two poor chambers taken in. 
And razed ; ere thought could urge this might have been !" i 

Internal evidence seems to corroborate this external 
evidence, and to point to circa 1612 as the date of Henry 
VIIL The panegyric on James I, with its probable ref- 
erence (V, V, 51—3) to the first settlements of Virginia in 
1607, and to subsequent settlements contemplated in 1612 ^ 
(or to the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth to the Elec- 

1 There were also several "lamentable ballads" on the event ; one 
of them, if genuine, is of special interest, as it has for the burden 
at the end of each stanza: — 

"O sorrow, pitiful sorrow! 
And yet it all is true!" 

The fifth stanza is significant: — 

Away ran Lady Catherine, 
Nor waited out her trial. 

(Vide Collier, Annals of the Stage.) The authenticity of the ballad 
is most doubtful. 

Halliwell doubted the identity of AH is True and Shakespeare's 
play, because he found a reference in a ballad to the fact that "the 
reprobates . . . prayed for the Foole and Henrye Condye" and 
there is no fool in the play, but the ballad does not imply that there 
was a fool's part. 

2 A state lottery was set up expressly for the establishment of 
English Colonies in Virginia in 1613. 



Preface . THE LIFE OF 

tor Palatine which took place on February 14, 1613), fixes 
the late date for the play in its present form. 

Some scholars have, however, held that it was originally 
composed either (i) towards the end of Queen Elizabeth's 
reign, or (ii) at the beginning of the reign of her suc- 
cessor. Elze attempted, without success, to maintain the 
former supposition by eliminating (as later additions) not 
only the references to King James, but also the scene be- 
tween Katharine and the Cardinals, and most of Katharine's 
death scene, so as to make the play a sort of apology for 
Henry, a glorification of Anne Boleyn, and an apotheosis 
of Elizabeth.^ Hunter held the latter view, discovering 
inter alia that the last scene was "to exhibit the respect 
which rested on the memory of Elizabeth, and the hopeful 
anticipations which were entertained on the accession of 
King James." ^ 

At all events no critic has attempted to regard the great 
trial-scene as a later interpolation, and this scene may 
therefore be taken to be an integral part of Shakespeare's 
work; it is a companion picture to the trial in The Winr- 
ter^s Tale; Hermione and Katharine are twin-sisters, 
"queens of earthly queens" ; and indeed the general char- 
acteristics, metrical and otherwise, of this and other typi- 
cally Shakespearean scenes, give a well-grounded im- 
pression that the two plays belong to the same late period, 
and that we probably have in Henri/ VIII "the last heir" 
of the poet's invention. "The opening of the play," wrote 
James Spedding, recording the eifect produced by a care- 
ful reading of the whole, "seemed to have the full stamp 
of Shakespeare, in his latest manner : the same close-packed 
expression ; the same life, and reality, and freshness ; the 
same rapid and abrupt turnings of thought, so quick that 
language can hardly follow fast enough ; the same im- 

1 Vide Essays on Shakespeare by Professor Karl Elze (translated 
by L. Dora Schmitz) ; cp. German Shakespeare, Jahrbnch, 1874. Col- 
lier held a similar theory, which numbers many advocates among the 
old Shakespearians — e. g. Theobald, Johnson, Steevens, Malone, etc. 

2 New Illustrations to Shakespeare, II. 101. 



KING HENRY VIII Preface 

patient activity of intellect and fancy, which having once 
disclosed an idea cannot wait to work it orderly out; the 
same daring confidence in the resources of language, which 
plunges headlong into a sentence without knowing how it 
is to come forth; the same careless meter which disdains 
to produce its harmonious eifects by the ordinary devices, 
yet is evidently sub j ect to a master of harmony ; the same 
entire freedom from book-language and common-place; 
all the qualities, in short, which distinguish the magical 
hand which has never yet been successfully imitated." ^ 
But the magical touch is not found throughout the play. 

THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE PLAY 

As early as 1758, in Edward's Canons of Criticism 
(sixth edition), Roderick called attention. to the following 
peculiarities in the versification of Henry VIII: — (i) the 
frequent occurrence of a redundant syllable at the end 
of line; (ii) the remarkable character of the cjesurae, or 
pauses of the verse; (iii) the clashing of the emphasis 
with the cadence of the meter. The subject received no 
serious attention for well-nigh a century, until in 1850 
Mr. Spedding published his striking study of the play, 
wherein he elaborated a suggestion casually thrown out 
"by a man of first-rate judgment on such a point" (viz., 
the late Lord Tennyson), that many passages in Henry 
VIII were very much in the manner of Fletcher. Basing 
his conclusions on considerations of dramatic construction, 
diction, meter, and subtle aesthetic criteria, he assigned to 
Shakespeare Act I, sc. i, ii ; Act II, sc. iii, iv ; Act III, sc. 
ii (to exit of the King) ; Act V, sc. i, and all the rest of the 
play to Fletcher (though, possibly, even a third hand can 
be detected).^ 

Shakespeare's original design was probably "a great 

1 "Who wrote Shakespeare's Henry VIII?" {Gentleman's Magazine, 
1850); "New Shakespeare Societj''s Papers," 1874. 

2 N. B. — Wolsey's famous soliloquy falls to Fletcher's share. 

As regards the Prologue and Epilogue, they seem Fletcherian; the 
former may well be compared with the lines prefixed to The Mad 
xi 



Preface THE LIFE OF 

historical drama on the subject of Henry VIII, which would 
have included the divorce of Katharine, the fall of Wol- 
sey, the rise of Cranmer, the coronation of Anne Bullen, 
and the final separation of the English from the Romish 
Church." He had carried out his idea as far as Act III, 
when his fellows at the Globe required a new play for some 
special occasion (perhaps the marriage of Princess Eliz- 
abeth) the MS. was handed over to Fletcher, who elab- 
orated a five-act play, suitable to the occasion, "by inter- 
spersing scenes of show and magnificence" ; a splendid 
"historical masque or show-play" was the result.^ 

Spedding's views on Henry VIII are now generally ac- 
cepted ; ^ they were immediately confinned by Mr. S. 
Hickson, who had been investigating the matter independ- 
ently (Notes and Queries, II, p, 198; III, p. 33), and later 
on by Mr. Fleay and others, who subjected the various por- 
tions of the play to the metrical tests. ^ 

Lover; they are, however, so contradictory, that one would fain as- 
sign them to diiferent hands, 

1 The panegyric at the end is quite in the Masque-style; so, too, the 
Vision in Act IV. scene ii.; compare Pericles, V. ii.; Cymbeline, V. 
iv., both similarly un-Shakespearean. The Masque in The Tempest 
is also of somewhat doubtful authorship. Mr. Fleay suggested as an 
explanation of the dual authorship that that part of Shakespeare's 
play was burned at the Globe, and that Fletcher was employed to re- 
write this part; that in doing so he used such material as he recol- 
lected from his hearing of Shakespeare's play. Hence the superior- 
ity of his work here over that elsewhere {vide Shakespeare Manual, 
p. 171). 

2 Singer, Knight, Ward, Ulrici, do not accept the theory of a 
divided authorship. In the Transactions of the Neiu Shak. Soc. for 
1880-5, there is a paper by Mr. Robert Boyle, putting forth the 
theorj'^ that the play was written by Fletcher and Massinger, and 
that the original Shakespearean play perished altogether in the 
Globe fire. 

3 These tests seem decisive against Shakespeare's sole autliorship. 
Dr. Abbot (Shakespearian Grammar, p. 331) states emphatically: — 
"The fact that in Henry VIII, and in no other play of Shakespeare's, 
constant exceptions are formed to this rule (that an extra syllable 
at the end of a line is rarely a monosyllable) seems to me a suflS- 
cient proof that Shakespeare did not write that play." 

xii 



KING HENRY VIII 



Preface 



THE SOURCES 

There were four main sources used for the historical 
facts of the play: — (i) Hall's Union of the Families of 
Lancaster and York (1st ed. 1548); (ii) Holinshed's 
Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland (1st cd. 
1577; 2nd ed. 1586) ; (iii) The Life of Cardinal Wolsejj, 
by George Cavendish, his gentleman-usher (first printed in 
1641 ; MSS. of the work were common) ; (iv) Foxe's Acts 
and Monuments of the Church (1st ed. 1563). The last- 
named book afforded the materials for the Fifth Act. 



CHRONOLOGY OF THE PLAY 

Though the play keeps in many places the very diction 
of the authorities, yet its chronology is altogether ca- 
pricious, as will be seen from the following table of historic 
dates, arranged in the order of the play : — ^ 

1520. June. Field of the Cloth of Gold. 
1522. March. War declared with France. 

May-July. Visit of the Emperor to the English 
Court. 

1521. April 16. Buckingham brought to the Tower. 
1527. Henry becomes acquainted with Anne Bullen. 
1521. May. Arraignment of Buckingham. 

May 17. His execution. 

The following table, will show at a glance the metrical characteris- 
tics of the parts: — 





Shakespeare. 


Fletcher. 




double endings 
unstopped lines 
light endings 
weak endings 
rhymes 


1 to 3 

1 to 2.03 

45 

37 

6 {accidental) 


1 to 1.7 -1 
1 to 3.79 J 

■ ! 


proportion, 
number. 



1 Vide P. A. Daniel's Time Analysis, Trans, of New Shale. Soc, 
1877-79 ; cp. Courtenay's Commentaries on the Historical Plays; War- 
ner's English History in Shakespeare. 
xiii 



Preface KING HENRY VIII 

1527. August. Commencement of proceedings for the 

divorce. 

1528. October. Cardinal Campeius arrives in London. 

1532. September. Anne Bullen created Marchioness of 

Pembroke. 

1529. May. Assembly of the Court at Blackfriars to 

try the case of the divorce. 

* [ Cranmer abroad working for the divorce. 

1529. Return of Cardinal Campeius to Rome. 

1533. January. Marriage of Henry Avitli Anne Bullen. 

1529. October. Wolsey deprived of the great seal. 

Sir Thomas More chosen Lord Chan- 
cellor. 
1533. March 30. Cranmer consecrated Archbishop of 
Canterbury. 
May 23. Nullity of the marriage Avith Katherine 
declared. 

1530. November 29. Death of Cardinal Wolsey. 
1533. June 1. Coronation of Anne. 

1536. January 8. Death of Queen Katherine. 

1533. September 7. Birth of Elizabeth. 

1544. Cranmer called before the Council. 

1533. September. Christening of Elizabeth. 

DURATION OF ACTION 

From the above it is clear that the historical events of 
the play cover a period of twenty-four years ; the time of 
the play, however, is seven days, represented on the stage, 
with intervals : — 

Day 1. Act I, sc. i-iv. Interval. 

Day 2. Act II, sc. i-iii. ^ 

Day 3. Act II, sc. iv. 

Day 4. Act III, sc. i. Interval. 

Day 5. Act III, sc. ii. Interval. 

Day 6. Act IV, sc. i, ii. Interval. 

Day 7. Act V, sc. i-iv. 



INTRODUCTION 

By Henry Norman Hudson, A.M. 

The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the 
Eighth was first published in the folio of 1623, with a 
text unusually correct for the time, with the acts and scenes 
regularly marked throughout, and with the stage-direc- 
tions more full and particular than in any of the previous 
dramas. That it should have been printed so accurately 
is the more remarkable, inasmuch as the construction of the 
sentences is often greatly involved, the meaning in many 
places very obscure, and the versification irregular to the 
last degree of dramatic freedom throughout. 

The date of the composition has been more variously ar- 
gued and concluded than can well be accounted for, con- 
sidering the clearness and coherence of the premises. The 
Globe Theater was burned down June 29, 1613. Howes, 
in his continuation of Stowe's Chronicle, recording this 
event some time after it took place, speaks of "the house 
being filled with people to behold the play of Henry the 
Eighth." And in the Harleian Manuscripts is a letter 
from Thomas Lorkin to Sir Thomas Puckering, dated 
"London, this last of June," and containing the following : 
"No longer since than yesterday, while Burbage his com- 
pany were acting at the Globe the play of Henry VIII, 
and there shooting of certain chambers in triumph, the 
fire catched, and fastened upon the thatch of the house, 
and there burned so furiously, as it consumed the whole 
house, and in less than two hours, the people having 
enough to do to save themselves." But the most partic- 
ular account of the event is in a letter written by Sir 
Henry Wotton to his nephew, and dated July 6, 1613 : 

XV 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

"Now to let matters of state sleep, I will entertain you at 
the present with what happened this week at the Bank- 
side. The king's players had a new play, called All is 
True, representing some principal pieces of the reign of 
Henry the Eighth, which was set forth with many extraor- 
dinary circumstances of pomp and majesty, even to the 
matting of the stage ; the knights of the order with their 
Georges and Garter, the guards with their embroidered 
coats and the like ; sufficient, in truth, within a while to 
make greatness very familiar, if not ridiculous. Now, 
King Henry making a mask at the Cardinal Wolsey's 
house, and certain cannons being shot off at his entry, 
some of the paper, or other. stuff wherewith one of them 
was stopped, did light on the thatch, where, being thought 
at first but an idle smoke, and their eyes being more atten- 
tive to the show, it kindled inwardly, and ran round like a 
train, consuming within less than an hour the whole house 
to the very ground. This was the fatal period of that 
virtuous fabric, wherein yet nothing did perish but wood 
and straw, and a few forsaken cloaks : onl3^ one man had 
his breeches set on fire, that would perhaps have broiled 
him, if he had not, by the benefit of a provident wit, put it 
out with bottle ale." 

From all which it would seem that the play originally 
had a double title, one referring to the plan, the other to 
the material, of the composition. At all events. Sir Hen- 
ry's description clearly identifies the play to have been 
the one now in hand ; and it will hardly be questioned that 
he knew what he was about when he called it a new play. 
And the title whereby he distinguishes it is in some sort be- 
spoken in the Prologue ; while, in the kind of interest 
sought to be awakened, the whole play is strictly corre- 
sponding therewith ; the Poet being here more than in any 
other case studious of truth in the historical sense, and 
adhering, not always indeed to the actual order of events, 
but with singular closeness throughout to their actual 
import and form. In short, a kind of historical con- 
science, a scrupulous fidelity to fact, is manifestly the 
xvi 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

regulating and informing thought of the piece; as if the 
Poet had here undertaken to set forth a drama made up 
emphatically of "chosen truth," insomuch that it should in 
all fairness deserve the significant title, All is True. 

This of course infers the play to have been written as 
late as 1612, and perhaps not before the beginning of 
1613. And herewith agrees that part of Cranmer's 
prophecy in the last scene, declaring that 

"Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine. 
His honour and the greatness of his name 
Shall be, and make new nations"; 

Avhich can scarce be understood otherwise than as re- 
ferring to the new nation founded by King James in 
America, the first charter of Virginia being issued in 1606, 
the colony planted and Javies-Tov<i\ settled in 1607, and 
a second charter granted, and a lottery opened in aid of 
the colonists, in 1612. It will not be out of place to ad- 
duce here the well-known passage from the Diary of the 
Rev. J. Ward, who became vicar of the church at Strat- 
ford in 1662, forty-six years after the Poet's death. "I 
have heard," says he, "that Mr. Shakespeare was a nat- 
ural wit, without any art at all ; he frequented the plays 
all his younger time, but in his elder days lived at Strat- 
ford, and supplied the stage with two plays every year." 
That this statement is in all points strictly true, is not 
pretended; nor does the writer give any part of it as a 
fact, but merely as what "I have heard": as to that about 
the "two plays every year," the most that can be said is, 
that it probably had some basis of truth ; which basis may 
have been merely that Shakespeare continued to write for 
the stage after he retired to Stratford. And that the rev- 
erend author took no small interest in the person he was 
writing about, may be safely presumed from the rule he 
lays down for himself just after: "Remember to peruse 
Shakespeare's plays, and be versed in them, that I may not 
be ignorant in that matter." The precise date of Shake- 
speare's retirement from the stage has not been ascer- 



Introduction THE LIFE Oh 

tained: most probably it was some time in the course of 
1610 or the following year; and there- are none of his 
pla3^s which, whether by internal or external marks, ap- 
pear more likely to have been written after that time, than 
King Henry VIII. In style and diction it has much the 
same peculiarities, only in a still higher degree, as The 
Tempest, The Winter's Tale, and Cymheline, which there 
is every reason to believe were written during or near the 
period in question. 

Notwithstanding all this evidence, the notion more com- 
monly held is, that the play was written before the death 
of Elizabeth, which took place in March, 1603. The only 
reason worth naming alleged for this is, that the Poet 
would not have been likely to glorify her reign so amply 
after her death. And because there is still less likeli- 
hood that during her life he would have glorified in so 
large a measure the reign of her successor, therefore re- 
sort is had to the theory, that in June, 1613, the play was 
revived under a new title, which caused Sir Henry Wotton 
to think it a new play, and that the Prologue was then 
written and the passage concerning James interpolated by 
Ben Jonson. Which position needs no other answer, than 
that it is unsupported by any real evidence: it is a sheer 
conjecture, devised of purpose to meet the exigency of 
a foregone conclusion. And, surely, the evidence must be 
pretty strong, to warrant the belief that Jonson would 
have exercised such a liberal patronage over any of Shake- 
speare's plays while the author was yet living. And as 
for the passage touching James, we can perceive no such 
signs as have been alleged of its being an after insertion: 
the awkwardness of connection, which has been so confi- 
dently affirmed as betraying a second hand or a second 
time, seems altogether imaginary: the passage knits in as 
smoothly as need be with what precedes and follows, is of 
the same cast, color, and complexion, and, in brief, is per- 
fectly in course and keeping with the whole drift and up- 
shot of Cranmer's magnificent prediction. We speak the 
more strongly on this subject, for that the interpolation 
xviii 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

has been assumed as beyond controversy, and the hnes 
printed in brackets, as having no right to be considered 
a part of the original play. And it is worthy of special 
note, that the words, — "She shall be an aged princess," — 
have not been included in the brackets ; which, notwith- 
standing, are precisely what any man would have least 
dared to write, unless he meant that writing should be his 
last, while the great queen was living. 

Nor is it easy to discover in the play itself any very 
strong indications of its having been written with a spe- 
cial view to please Elizabeth. The design, so far as she 
was anywise concerned therein, seems much rather to have 
been, to please the people by whom she was all-beloved 
during her life, and, if possible, still more so when, after 
the lapse of a few years, her prudence, her courage, and 
her magnanimity, save where her female jealousies were 
touched, had been set off to greater advantage by the blun- 
ders and infirmities of her speech-wise, act-fool successor. 
For it is well known that for a long while the popular 
feeling run back so strongly to her government, that 
James had no way but to fall in with and swell the cur- 
rent, notwithstanding the strong causes which he had, both 
public and personal, to execrate her memory. The play 
has an evident making in with this feeling, unsolicitous, 
generally, of what would have been likely to make in, and 
sometimes boldly adventurous of what would have been 
sure to make out, with the object of it. Such an appre- 
ciative representation of the meek and honorable sorrows 
of Katharine, so nobly-proud, yet in that pride so gentle 
and true-hearted; her dignified submission, wherein her 
rights as a woman and a wife are firmly watched and 
sweetly maintained, yet the sharpest eye cannot detect the 
least swerving from duty ; her brave and eloquent sym- 
pathy with the plundered people, pleading their cause in 
the face of royal and reverend rapacity, and that with an 
energetic simplicity which even the witchcraft of Wol- 
sey's tongue cannot sophisticate ; and all this set in open 
contrast with the worldly-minded levity, and the equiv- 
xix 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

ocal, or at least the qualified, virtue of her rival, and with 
the sensual, hard-hearted, hypocritical tyranny of the 
king ; — surely the Poet must have known a great deal less, 
or else a great deal more, than anybody else, of the 
haughty daughter of that rival and that king, to have 
thought of pleasing her by such a representation. 

Mr. Collier, who holds much the same view as here ex- 
pressed, so far as regards the prophecies touching Eliz- 
abeth and James, has however a third view as to the date 
of the composition. He thinks that the play was prob- 
ably brought out at the Globe Theater in the summer of 
1604, and that what Sir Henry Wotton described in 1613 
as "a new play, called All is True," was the work of an- 
other person. His only ground for this opinion is the 
following entry in the Stationers' Register, made to Na- 
thaniel Butter, February 12, 1605 : "If he get good al- 
lowance for the Interlude of King Henry VIII before 
he begins to print it, and then procure the wardens' hands 
to it for the entrance of it, he is to have the same for his 
copy." Had there been at that time no other dramatic 
performance on the subject of Henry the Eighth, this 
would indeed go far to prove, not that the play described 
by Sir Henry was not Shakespeare's, but that he was mis- 
taken in calling it new. But it seems quite probable that 
the above-quoted entry relates to another play by Sam- 
uel Rowley, published in 1605, and entitled When you see 
me you know me, or The Famous Chronicle History of 
King Henry the Eighth. 

The historical matter of this play, so far as relates to 
the fall of Wolsey and the divorcement of Katharine, was 
originally derived from George Cavendish, who was gen- 
tleman-usher to the great cardinal, and himself an eye- 
witness of much that he describes. His Life of Master 
Wolsey is among the best specimens extant of the older 
English literature ; the narrative being set forth in a clear, 
simple, manly eloquence, which in some of his finest pas- 
sages the Poet has almost literally transcribed. Whether 
his book had been published in Shakespeare's time, is un- 

XX 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

certain, but so much of it as fell within the plot of the 
drama had been embodied in the Chronicles of Holinshed 
and Stowe. That the Poet may have read it either in 
manuscript or in some unknown edition, is indeed possible : 
howbeit, the play yields no evidence of his having gone 
beyond the pages of the chronicler. We subjoin a pretty 
full statement of the matter as it stands in Holinshed ; 
where the reader will be apt to feel a certain first-hand di- 
rectness and spirit, as though the words had been caught 
and kept in all their racy freshness, as they fell from the 
original speakers. 

In the summer of 1527, something over six years after 
the death of Buckingham, it began to be whispered in 
London, how the king had been told by Dr. Longland, 
bishop of Lincoln, and others, that his marriage with 
Katharine was not lawful ; and how for that cause he was 
thinking to put her away, and marry the duchess of 
Alencon, sister to the king of France. Hearing that this 
rumor was going, the king sent for the mayor, and 
charged him to see that the people ceased from such talk. 
The next year, however, the trouble, which, it seems, had 
long been secretly brewing in the king's conscience touch- 
ing that matter, broke out sure enough. Whether this 
doubt were first moved by the cardinal or by Longland, 
the king's confessor, at all events, in doubt he was ; and 
therefore he resolved to have the case examined and cleared 
by sufficient authority. And, in truth, the blame of hav- 
ing cast this scruple into his mind was commonly laid 
upon Wolsey, because of his known hatred to the emperor, 
Charles V, who was nephew to Katharine, and who had 
refused him the archbishopric of Toledo, for which he 
was a suitor. Therefore he sought to procure a divorce, 
that Henry might be free to knit a fast friendship with the 
French king by marrying his sister. In pursuance of his 
resolution Henry wrote to Rome, desiring that a legate 
might be sent over to hear and determine the cause ; and 
the consistory sent Cardinal Campeius, a man of great 
judgment and experience, with Avhom was joined the car- 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

dinal of York. Upon his coming, which was in October, 
1528, the king, knowing that the queen was somewhat 
wedded to her opinion, and wishing her to do nothing 
without counsel, bade her choose the best clerks in his 
realm, and licensed them to do the best they could for her. 
She having made her selection, the great hall at Black- 
Friars was fixed upon and fitted up for the trial. 

The court began its work on June 21, 1529. All 
things being ready, at the command of the scribe the crier 
called, "Henry, king of England, come into the court. 
With that the king answered. Here. Then called he, 
Katharine, queen of England, come into the court. Who 
made no answer, but rose out of her chair ; and, because 
she could not come to the king directly for the distance 
between them, she went about by the court, and came to 
the king, kneeling down at his feet. Sir, quoth she, I 
desire you to do me justice and right, and take some pity 
upon me ; for I am a ,poor woman, and a stranger, born 
out of your dominion, having here no indifferent counsel, 
and less assurance of friendship. Alas, sir, in what have 
I offended you, or what occasion of displeasure have I 
showed you, intending thus to put me from you? I take 
God to my judge, I have been to you a true and humble 
wife, ever conformable to your will and pleasure, and be- 
ing always contented with all things wherein you had any 
delight, whether little or much: without grudge or dis- 
pleasure, I loved for your sake all them whom you loved, 
Avhether they were my friends or enemies. I have been 
your wife these twenty years and more, and you have had 
by me divers children. If there be any just cause that 
you can allege against me, either of dishonesty, or of 
matter lawful to put me from you, I am content to depart 
to my shame and rebuke: and if there be none, then I 
pray you to let me have justice at your hand. The king 
your father was in his time of excellent wit ; and the king 
of Spain my father, Ferdinand, was reckoned one of the 
wisest princes that reigned in Spain many years before. 
It is not to be doubted, that they had gathered as wise 



KING HEjVRY VIlI Introduction 

counselors unto them of every realm, who deemed the mar- 
riage between you and me good and lawful. Wherefore 
I humbly desire you to spare me, until I may know what 
counsel my friends in Spain will advise me to take ; and if 
you will not, then your pleasure be fulfilled. 

"Here is to be noted, that the queen in presence of the 
whole court most grievously accused the cardinal of un- 
truth, deceit, and malice, which had sown dissension be- 
twixt her and the king ; and therefore openly protested 
that she did utterly abhor, refuse, and forsake such a 
judge, who was not only a malicious enemy to her, but 
also a manifest adversary to all right and justice: and 
therewith did she appeal unto the pope, committing her 
whole cause to be judged of him. Witii that she arose 
up, making a low courtesy to the king, and departed. 
The king, being advertised that she was ready to go out 
of the house, commanded the crier to call her again; who 
called, Katharine, queen of England, come into the court. 
With that quoth master Griffith, Madam, you be called 
again. On, on, quoth she; it maketh no matter: I will 
not tarry ; go on your ways. And thus she departed, 
without any further answer at that time, or any other; 
and never would appear after in any court. The king, 
perceiving she was departed, said these words in effect: 
Forasmuch as the queen is gone, I will in her absence de- 
clare to you all, that she has been to me as true, as obedi- 
ent, and as conformable a wife, as I would wish or desire. 
She hath all the virtuous qualities that ought to be in a 
woman : she is also surely noble bom ; her conditions well 
declare the same. 

"With that quoth the cardinal. Sir, I most humbly re- 
quire your highness to declare before all this audience, 
whether I have been the chief and first mover of this mat- 
ter unto your majesty, or no; for I am greatly suspected 
herein. My lord cardinal, quoth the king, I can well ex- 
cuse you in this matter; marry, you have been rather 
against me, than a setter-forward or mover of the same. 
The special cause that moved me was a scrupulosity that 
xxiii 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

pricked my conscience, upon certain words spoken by the 
bishop of Bayonne, the French ambassador, who had been 
hither sent upon the debating of a marriage between our 
daugliter the lady Mary and the duke of Orleans. Upon 
the resolution and determination whereof, he desired re- 
spite to advertise the king his master, whether our daugh- 
ter Mary should be legitimate, in respect of my marriage 
with this woman, being sometime my brother's wife. 
Which words within the secret bottom of my conscience 
engendered such a scrupulous doubt, whereby I thought 
myself to be greatly in danger of God's indignation; 
which appeared the rather, for that He sent us no issue 
male, and all such issue male as my wife had by me died 
incontinent after they came into the world. 

"Thus my conscience being tossed in the waves of a 
scrupulous mind, it behooved me further to consider the 
state of this realm, and the danger it stood in for lack of 
a prince to succeed me. I thought it good in release of 
the weighty burden of my conscience to attempt the law 
therein, whether I may take another wife more lawfully, 
by whom God may send me more issue, and not for any 
misliking of the queen's person and age, with whom I 
would be as well contented, if our marriage may stand 
with the laws of God, as with any woman alive. In this 
point consisteth all that we now go about to try, by the 
wisdom of you, our prelates and pastors, to whose con- 
science and learning I have committed the charge and 
judgment. After that I perceived my conscience so 
doubtful, I moved it in confession to you, my lord of 
Lincoln, then ghostly father. And forasmuch as you 
were in some doubt, you moved me to ask the counsel of 
all these lords : whereupon I moved you, my lord of Canter- 
bury, first to have your license to put this matter in ques- 
tion ; and so I did of all you, my lords, which you granted 
under your seals. After that, the king rose up, and the 
court was adjourned till another day. The legates sat 
weekly, and every day were arguments brought in on both 
parts, and still they assayed if they could procure the 



KING HENRY VIII Introduction 

queen to call back her appeal, which she utterly refused 
to do. The king would gladly have had an end in the 
matter; but when the legates drove time, and determined 
no point, he conceived a suspicion, that this was of pur- 
pose that their doings might draw to no conclusion. 

"Thus the court passed from session to session, till the 
king sent the two cardinals to the queen, who was then in 
Bridewell, to advise her to surrender the whole matter into 
the king's hands, which should be much better to her 
honor, than to stand to the trial of law. The cardinals 
being in the queen's chamber of presence, the gentleman- 
usher advertised the queen that they were come to speak 
with her. With that she rose up, and, with a skein of 
white thread about her neck, came into her chamber where 
they were attending. Quoth she. What is your pleasure 
with me? If it please your grace, quoth Cardinal Wolsey, 
to go into your privy chamber, we will show you the cause 
of our coming. My lord, quoth she, if ye have any thing 
to say, speak it openly before all these folk ; for I fear 
nothing that ye can say against me, but I would all the 
world should hear and see it. Then began the cardinal 
to speak to her in Latin. Nay, good my lord, quoth she, 
speak to me in English. Forsooth, good madam, quoth 
the cardinal, we come to know your mind in this matter 
between the king and you, and to declare secretly our 
opinions and counsel unto you ; which we do only for very 
zeal and obedience we bear unto your grace. My lord, 
quoth she, I thank you for your good will; but to make 
answer in your request I cannot so suddenly ; for I was 
set among my maids at work, thinking full little of any 
such matter; wherein there needeth a longer deliberation, 
and a better head than mine : I need counsel in this case 
which toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friend- 
ship that I can find in England, they are not for my 
profit. What think you, my lords, will any Englishman 
counsel me, or be friend to me against the king's pleasure? 
Nay, forsooth ; as for my counsel, in whom I will put my 
trust, they be not here, they be in Spain, in my own coun- 

XXV 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

try. — My lords, I am a poor woman, lacking wit to an- 
swer to any such noble persons of wisdom as you be, in 
so weighty a matter : therefore, I pray you, be good to me, 
destitute of friends here in a foreign region ; and your 
counsel also I will be glad to hear. And therewith she 
took the cardinal by the hand, and led him into her privy 
chamber with the other cardinal; where they tarried a sea- 
son, talking with the queen: which communication ended, 
they departed to the king, making to him relation of her 
talk." 

All men now looked for a conclusion of the case the 
next day ; but, when the time came, Campeius, instead of 
giving judgment, dissolved the court, saying that, as the 
defendant had appealed her cause to Rome, he could take 
no further action, but would lay all their proceedings be- 
fore the pope, and abide by his decision; which delay was 
highly offensive to the king. Meanwhile Wolsey had been 
apprised that the king had set his heart upon Anne Boleyn, 
the queen's maid of honor. Foreseeing that if the divorce 
were granted the king would marry her, he set himself to 
defeat that match, which he thought was most of all to be 
avoided. The queen's appeal to Rome still pending, he 
sent letters and secret messengers, requesting the pope to 
defer judgment in the case till he could mold the king to 
his purpose. But his doings were not so secret but that 
the king got knowledge of them, and thereupon took so 
great displeasure that he resolved to abase the cardinal; 
which when the nobles perceived, they began to accuse him 
of such offenses as they knew could be proved, and, hav- 
ing drawn up certain articles, got divers of the king's 
council to set their hands to them. The king was now 
informed that what the cardinal had done in virtue of his 
legantine power fell under the statute of praemunire, and, 
a parliament being called, he caused his attorney to make 
out a writ to that effect. On November 17, 1529, he sent 
the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, requiring him to sur- 
render the great seal, and retire to Asher, a house near 
Hampton-court, belonging to the bishopric of Winchester, 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

Wolsey refused to give up the seal without further proof 
of their authority, saying that the king had entrusted it to 
him for the term of his hfe, and confirmed the gift with 
letters-patent. After a great many words between them, 
the dukes went off without it, and returned the next day 
Avith a written order from the king; whereupon the car- 
dinal yielded, made over his whole personal estate to the 
king, and threw himself entirely on his mercy. 

So big was this great man's grief, that about Christmas 
he was taken down with a threatening fever. On hearing 
of his danger, the king exclaimed, — "God forbid that he 
should die ! I would not lose him for twenty thousand 
pounds." He then forthwith sent three physicians to 
Asher, assured the sick man of his unabated attachment, 
and persuaded Anne Boleyn to send him a tablet of gold 
as a token of reconciliation. In the course of the winter 
Wolsey retired to his office as archbishop of York, the 
king having arrested the proemunire so far as to reserve 
him the revenues of that see and of Winchester. At this 
time many of his servants, the chief of Avhom was Thomas 
Cromwell, left his service, and entered the king's. It is 
said that he kept Easter at Peterborough, with a train of 
a hundred and sixty persons ; and that "upon. Maundy- 
Thursday he there had nine-and-fifty poor men, whose 
feet he washed, and gave every one twelve pence in money, 
three ells of good canvas, a pair of shoes, a cast of red 
herrings and three white herrings, and one of them had 
two shillings." By his great thoughts, gentle acts, and 
liberal and gracious deportment, he Avas winning the hearts 
of all about him ; on which account his enemies, fearing 
he might yet reinstate himself, spared no efforts to complete 
his undoing. Accordingly, the following November, at 
his manor of Cawood, he was arrested for high treason by 
the earl of Northumberland. On his way to London he 
spent several days at Sheffield park with the earl of 
Shrewsbury, where he was taken very ill with a fever and 
a flux 'which greatly reduced his strength. There he was 
met by Kingston, constable of the Tower, to whom it had 
xxvii 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

been given in charge to conduct him to London. On first 
coming into his presence Kingston kneeled down ; but he 
said, — "I pray you, stand up ; kneel not to me ; I am but 
a wretch replete with misery, utterly cast away." From 
thence he rode onward three days, by short and easy jour- 
neys, the flux continuing with great violence, till at length 
on the third day "he waxed so sick that he was almost 
fallen from his mule." After night-fall he came to Lei- 
cester abbey, where, at his coming, the abbot and all the 
convent went out to meet him with lighted torches, and 
received him with great honor; and he said, — "Father 
abbot, I am come hither to lay my bones among you." 
Having alighted, he immediately took his chamber and 
went to bed, where his sickness still increased. Three days 
after, "on Tuesday even, master Kingston came to him, 
and bade him good-morrow, for it was about six of the 
clock, and asked him how he did. Sir, quoth he, I tarry 
but the pleasure of God, to render up my poor soul into 
His hands. Not so, sir, quoth master Kingston ; with the 
grace of God, ye shall live, and do very well, if ye will be 
of good cheer. Nay, in good sooth, master Kingston ; 
my disease is such that I cannot live. Sir, quoth mas- 
ter Kingston, you be in much pensiveness, doubting 
that thing that in good faith ye need not. Well, well, 
master Kingston, quoth the cardinal ; I see the matter how 
it is framed: but if I had served God as diligently as I 
have done the king. He would not have given me over in 
my gray hairs. But it is the just reward that I must re- 
ceive for the pains and study I have had, to do him serv- 
ice, not regarding my service to God. When the clock 
struck eight he gave up the ghost, and departed this life ; 
which caused some to call to remembrance how he said the 
day before, that at eight of the clock they should lose 
their master." 

This was on November 29, 1530. The Poet, with fine 
dramatic effect, and without any prejudice to the essential 
truth of history, represents the death of Katharine as 
occurring shortly after, though in fact it did not occur till 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

January 8, 1536. In July, 1531, Katharine withdrew 
from the court, and took up her abode at Ampthill. Upon 
receiving from Henry an order to do thus, she rephed that 
to whatever place she removed, nothing could remove her 
from being the king's wife. Long before this time the 
king had been trying to persuade Anne Boleyn to be a 
sort of left-handed wife to him ; but an older sister of hers 
having already held such a place and had enough of it, 
she stood out, being resolved to be his right-handed wife, 
or none at all; and, as the queen still persisted in her ap- 
peal, she still held off till she should see more prospect of 
the divorce being carried through. In September, 1532, 
she was created marchioness of Pembroke, with a thousand 
pounds a year, to which as much more was added soon 
after; and at length the king was privately married to 
her January 25, following. Cranmer became archbishop 
of Canterbury the next March, and went directly about 
the business of the divorce ; an act of parliament having 
been lately passed, forbidding appeals to Rome under the 
penalty of 'prcemunire . The archbishop, assisted by four 
bishops and divers other learned men, held his court in 
May at Dunstable, about six miles from Ampthill, where 
Katharine was still residing. "There she was cited to 
appear before the archbishop in cause of matrimony, and 
at the day of appearance she appeared not, but made de- 
fault ; and so she was called peremptorily every day fif- 
teen days together ; and at the last, for lack of appearance, 
by the assent of all the learned men there present she was 
divorced from the king, and the marriage declared to be 
void and of none effect." 

This was followed, in June, by the coronation of the 
new queen, and, in September, by the birth and christen- 
ing of the Princess Elizabeth. Soon after the divorce, 
Katharine removed to Kimbolton, where, in the course of 
the next year, she had to digest the hard intelligence, how 
the cold-hearted ruffianism of Henry, no longer tempered 
by the eloquence of the great cardinal, nor awed by the 
virtue of the good queen, had broken forth upon her 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

friends, and sucked the righteous blood of Fisher and More. 
Well might the poor woman die of a broken heart ! And 
so, in truth, she did: yet no threats or promises could in- 
duce her to forego the title of queen ; neither would she 
allow herself to be addressed in any other style, though 
the king had put forth an order making it treason to give 
her any title but that of Princess Dowager. The story 
of her death is thus told by Holinshed: "The Princess 
Dowager, ying at Kimbolton, fell into her last sickness, 
whereof the king being advertised appointed the emperor's 
ambassador, named Eustachius Capucius, to visit her, and 
will her to be of good comfort. The ambassador with all 
diligence did his duty therein ; but she within six days 
after, perceiving herself to wax very weak and feeble, and 
to feel death approaching, caused one of her gentle- 
women to write a letter to the king, commending to him 
her daughter and his, beseeching him to stand good fa- 
ther unto her. Further, she desired him to have some 
consideration for her gentlewomen that had sei-ved her, 
and to see them bestowed in marriage ; and that it would 
please him to appoint that her servants might have their 
due and a year's wages besides. This in effect was all she 
requested; and so immediately she departed this life, and 
was buried at Peterborough." 

The fifth act of this play is remarkable in that it yields 
a further disclosure as to Shakespeare's reading. Some 
of the incidents and, in many cases, the very words are 
taken from Fox the Martyrologist, whose Acts and Monu- 
ments of the Church, first published in 1563, had grown 
to be a very popular book in the Poet's time. 

And it is to be noted that the Poet has here again ju- 
diciously departed from the actual order of events. For 
the passage, between Cranmer and the Privy Council took 
place in 1544, more than eleven years after the event with 
which the play closes. Of course the inherent adapted- 
ness of the matter to a sound and legitimate stage-effect 
did not escape the Poet's e3^e ; and he has certainly used 
it to that end with sufficient skill and judgment: but as 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

the design of the piece required that it should wind up 
with the birth and christening of Elizabeth, he had no 
way to avail himself of that matter, but by anticipating 
and drawing it back to an earlier period. Thus far we 
have only a principle of dramatic convenience for the 
transposition. But there is really a much deeper reason 
for it. For the passage in question yields the most for- 
cible and pertinent instance of that steady support of 
Cranmer by the king, which was necessary to prepare the 
way for the final establishing of the Reformation on 
Elizabeth's coming to the crown. So that the matter is 
substantially connected with the ushering in of that new 
era in the national life, which was to form the chief 
strength and glory of her reign, and with the prevision 
of which the drama was to conclude. For it is manifest 
that the main interest of the drama, taken as a whole, cul- 
minates in that national renovation of mind and soul which 
was to take its beginnings from or along with the estab- 
lishing of the Reformed Faith : a sort of prophetic fore- 
cast to this effect runs through the play as an under- 
current, now and then working up to the surface in hope- 
ful and joyous anticipation; while the whole ends by pro- 
jecting the thoughts forward into' the far-off glories 
thence resulting. Thus we may see that the king's treat- 
ment of Cranmer, so aptly instanced in the passage with 
the Privy Council, stands in some sort as the original and 
cause of those mighty interests Avhich are gathered up and 
concentrated in the closing scene: though later in time 
than the birth of Elizabeth, it was in true logical and his- 
torical antecedence to the manifold great events which were 
bound up with her life, and which are appropriately made 
the theme of exultation at her christening. 

It is a question of no little interest how far, and in what 
sort, the Poet has in this play committed himself to the 
Refomaation ; if at all, whether more as a religious or as 
a national movement. He certainly sho.ws a good mind 
towards Cranmer, but nothing can be justly inferred from 
this, for he shows the same quite as much towards Kath- 



Introduction THE LIFE OFi 

arine ; and the king's real motives for putting her away 
are made plain enough: all which bespeaks a judicial calm- 
ness and evenness of mind, such as could not easily be 
won to any thing savoring of advocacy or special-plead- 
ing. There are, however, several expressions in the play, 
especially that in Cranmer's prophecy respecting Eliz- 
abeth, — "In her days God shall be truly known,"^ — that in- 
dicate pretty clearly on which side the Poet stood in the 
great ecclesiastical question of the time: though it may 
be plausibly, if not fairly, urged that in all these cases he 
does but make the persons speak in proper keeping with 
their characters and circumstances, without projecting 
any thing' of his individuality into them, or practising any 
ventriloquism about them ; thus maintaining the usual 
aloofness of himself, his opinions, tastes, preferences, from 
his representations. Not by any m.eans that we should 
make or admit any question of the Poet's being what 
would now be called a Protestant. That he was most truly 
and most wisely such, is shown unmistakably, we think, by 
the general complexion and toning of the piece, which, 
by the way, is the only one of his plays wherein this issue 
enters into the very structure and life of the work. It 
can scarce be thought that any man otherwise minded 
would have selected and ordered the materials of a drama 
so manifestly with a view to celebrate the glories of Eliza- 
beth's reign, all the main features thereof being identified 
with that interest by foes as well as friends. But whether 
he were made such more by religious or by national sym-r 
pathies, is another question, and one not to be decided 
so easil3\ For the honor and the liberties of England 
Avere then so held to be bound up with that cause, that the 
Poet's sound, sterling, honest English heart and the strong 
current of patriotic sentiment that flowed through his veins 
were enough of themselves to pledge him to it, and to 
secure it his enthusiastic and unreserved allegiance. That 
there was, practically, no breath for the stout, lusty 
nationality of old England but in the atmosphere of 
the Reformation, left no choice to such a downright, 



KING HENRY VIII Introduction 

thorough-paced Englishman as Shakespeare everywhere 
approves himself. So that all does but set off the Poet's 
equanimity in giving to each of the characters their due, 
and in letting them speak without fear or favor for them- 
selves. That, in his view, they could best serve his ends 
by freely pursuing their own, is of course the best possible 
proof that his ends were right. 

The main idea of this play, that whereon the grouping 
of the persons and the casting of the parts are made to 
proceed,, is announced in the Prologue, thus : 

"You see them great, 
And follow'd with the general throng, and sweat 
Of thousand friends ; then in a moment see 
How soon this mightiness meets misery." 

Here we have the key-note of the whole, that which draws 
and tempers the several particulars into consistency and 
harmony of effect. Accordingly the interest turns on a 
series of sudden and most affecting reverses. One after 
another the mighty are humbled and the lofty laid low^, 
their prosperity being strained to a high pitch, as if on 
purpose to deepen their plunge, just when they have 
reached the summit with their hearts built up and settled 
to the height of their rising, and when the wheel of For- 
tune seems fast locked, with themselves at the top. First, 
w^e have the princely Buckingham in the full-blown pride 
of talents and station ; made insolent and presumptuous 
by success ; losing his self-control by the very elevation 
that renders it most needful ; putting forth those leaves of 
hope which, as they express the worst parts of himself, of 
course provoke the worst parts of others, and so invite 
danger while blinding him to its approach: so that all 
things within and around him are thus made ripe for his 
final upsetting and ruin. Next, v/e have the patient and 
saintly Katharine sitting in state with the king, all that 
she can ask being given ere she asks it, sharing half his 
power, and appearing most worthy of it when most free 
to use it: she sees blessings flowing from her hand to the 
xxxiii 



Introduction THE LIFE OE 

people, and the honor and happiness of the nation reviv- 
ing as she pleads for them ; and her state seems secure, 
because it stands on nothing but virtue, and aims at noth- 
ing but the good of all within her reach, and because of 
her simple modesty and uprightness which no flatteries 
can surprise or beguile : yet even now the hypocritical king 
is cherishing in secret the passion that has already sup- 
planted her from his heart, and his base crafty mind is 
plotting the means of divorcing her from his side ; while 
at the same time he is weaving about her such a net of 
intrigue and conspiracy as may render her virtues, her 
very strength and beauty of character, powerless in her 
behalf, so that before she feels the meditated wrong all 
chance of redress is foreclosed. Then we have the over- 
great cardinal who, from his plenitude of inward forces, 
cuts his way and carries himself upward over whatso- 
ever offers to stop him ; who walks most securely when dan- 
gers are thickest, and is sure to make his purpose so long 
as there is any thing to hinder him, because he has the 
gift of turning all that would thwart him into the min- 
istry of a new strength ; whose cunning hand quietly steals 
and gathers in from others the elements of power, because 
he best knows how to use it and wherein the secret of it 
lies ; who at length has the king for his pupil and de- 
pendent, because his strange witchcraft of tongue is never 
at loss for just the right word at just the right time; and 
gets the keeping and control of his will, because he alone 
has the wit to make a way for it : yet his very power of 
rising against all opposers serves, apparently, but to ag- 
gravate and assure his fall, when there is no further height 
for him to climb ; and he at last, by his own mere over- 
sight and oblivion, loses all he has gained, because he has 
nothing more to gain. 

Yet in all these cases, because the persons have their 
greatness inherent, and not adventitious, therefore they 
carry it with them in their reverses ; or rather, in seeming 
to lose it, they augment it. For it is then seen, as it 
could not be before, that the greatness which was in their 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

circumstances only served to cripple or obscure that which 
was in themselves ; their nobler and better qualities shining 
out afresh when they are brought low, so that from their 
fall we learn the real causes of their rising. Buckingham 
is something more and better than the gifted and accom- 
plished nobleman, when he stands before us unpropped and 
simply as "poor Edward Bohun" ; his innate nobility be- 
ing set free by the hard discipline of adversity, and his 
mind falling back on its naked self for the making good 
his title to respect. And Wolsey towers far above the 
all-powerful cardinal and chancellor who "bore his blush- 
ing honors thick upon him," when, stripped of every thing 
that fortune and favor can give or take away, he bestows 
his great mind in parting counsel upon Cromwell ; when he 
comes, "an old man broken with the storms of state," to 
beg "a little earth for charity" ; and when 

"His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; 
For then, and not till then, he felt himself. 
And found the blessedness of being little." 

Nor is the change in our feelings towards them, after their 
fall, merely an effect passing within ourselves : it proceeds 
in part upon a real disclosure and outcoming of some- 
what in them that was before hidden or stifled beneath 
the superinducings of place and circumstance ; it is the 
seeing what they really are, and not merely the consider- 
ing what they have lost, that now moves us to do them 
reverence. For those elements which, stimulated into an 
usurped predominance by the subtly-working drugs of 
flattery and pride, before made them hateful and repul- 
sive, are now overmastered by the stronger elements of 
good that have their dwelling in them. And because this 
real and true exaltation springs up as the natural conse- 
quence of their overthrow, therefore it is that from the 
ruins of their fallen state the Poet builds "such noble 
scenes as draw the eye to flow." 

Katharine, it is true, so nobly meek, so proudly sub- 
missive, maintains the same simple, austere, and solid sweet- 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

ness of mind and manners through all the changes of for- 
tune. Yet she, too, rises by her humiliation and is made 
iperf ect by suffering, if not in herself, at least to us ; for 
lit gives her full sway over those deeper sympathies which 
;are necessary to a just appreciation of the profound and 
venerable beauty of her character. She has neither great 
nor brilliant parts ; and of this she is herself aware, for 
she knows herself most thoroughly ; yet she is truly great, 
— and this is the only truth about her which she does not 
know, and that, because she will not, — from the wonder- 
ful symmetry and composure wherein all the elements of 
her being stand and move together: so that she presents 
a very remarkable instance of greatness in the whole, with 
the absence of it in the parts. How clear and piercing 
and exact her judgment and discrimination! yet we scarce 
know whence it comes, or how. She exemplifies, more 
than any other of Shakespeare's historical portraits, the 
working 

"Of that fine sense, which to the pure in heart. 
By mere oppugnancy of their own goodness. 
Reveals the approach of evil." 

Not a little of the awe with which we justly regard her 
seems owing to the fact, or rather, perhaps, the impression 
we take, that she sees through her husband perfectly, yet 
never in the least betrays to him, and hardly owns to her- 
self, what mean and wicked qualities she knows or feels to 
be in him. It is not possible to overstate her simple art- 
lessness of mind, yet her simplicity is of such a texture and 
make as to be an overmatch for all the resources of un- 
scrupulous cunning by which she is beset. Her betray- 
ers, with all their dark craft, can neither keep from her 
the secret of their thoughts, nor turn her knowledge of it 
into any blemish of her innocence ; and she is as brave 
to face and even to outface their purpose, as she is pene- 
trating to discover it. And when her resolution is fixed, 
that "nothing but death shall e'er divorce her dignities," 
fS'Wtit is not, and we feel it is not, that she anywise over-val- 

xxxvi 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

ues the accidents of her position, or holds them for one 
iota more than they are worth ; the reverse of this is rather 
true: but to her they are the necessary symbols of her 
honor as a wife, and the inseparable garments of her deli- 
cacy as a woman; and as such, (to say nothing' how her 
thoughts of duty, of ancestral reverence, and of self-re- 
spect, are associated with them,) they have so grown in 
with her life, that she cannot part with them and live. 
Moreover, many hard, hard trials have made her conscious 
of her sterling virtue; she has borne too much, and borne 
it too well, to be ignorant what she is, and how much bet- 
ter things she has deserved; she knows, as she alone can 
know, that patience has had its perfect work with her: 
and this knowledge of her most solid and true worth, so 
sorely tried, so fully proved, enhances to her sense the 
insult and wrong that are put upon her, and make them 
eat like rust into her soul ; in short, her one absorbing sen- 
timent is that of the profoundest grief at meeting with 
such hardhearted injustice and indignity, where she had 
done and suffered so much to make good her claims as a 
woman and a wife. 

One instance deserves to be specially noted, where by 
the peculiar use of a single word the Poet illustrates very 
pregnantly, how Katharine "guides her words with discre- 
tion," and at the same time makes her suggest the long and 
hard ordeal of temper and judgment which she has nobly 
stood through. It is in the conversation that passes be- 
tween her and the two cardinals, when they come to visit 
her at Bridewell: 

"Bring me a constant woman to her husband. 
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure. 
And to that woman, when she has done most. 
Yet will I add an honor, — a great patience" 

How much more is here understood to be meant than is 
allowed to meet the ear! By the cautious and well- 
guarded, but prolific hint conveyed in the words italicized, 
the mind is thrown back and set at work upon the long 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

course of trials she has suffered, yet still kept her suffering 
secret, lest the knowledge thereof should defeat the hope 
that has possession of her heart ; with what considerate for- 
bearance and reserve she has borne with and struggled 
against the worst parts of her husband's character ; how she 
has wisely and thoughtfully ignored his base and cruel 
sins against her, that so she might still keep in action with 
him the proper motives to amendment ; thus endeavoring by 
conscientious art and policy to make the best that could be 
out of his strong, but hard, selfish, groveling nature. 
And yet all this is so intimated as not to compromise the 
quick and apprehensive delicacy which befits her relation to 
him, and belongs to her character. 

The scope of the suggestion in hand is well shown by a 
passage in the Life of Wolsey, referring to things that 
took place some time before the question of divorce was 
openly broached. The writer, having just spoken of 
Anne Boleyn's "privy grudge" against the cardinal for 
breaking the contract between Lord Percy and her, goes 
on thus : "But after she knew the king's pleasure and 
the bottom of his secret stomach, then she began to look 
very haughty and stout, lacking no manner of jewels or 
rich apparel that might be gotten for money. It was 
therefore judged bye-and-bye through the court of every 
man, that she being in such favor might work masteries 
with the king, and obtain any suit of him for her friend. 
All this while, it is no doubt but good Queen Katharine, 
having this gentlewoman daily attending upon her, both 
heard by report and saw with her eyes how it framed 
against her good ladyship : although she showed neither 
unto Mistress Anne Boleyn nor unto the king any kind or 
spark of grudge or displeasure ; but accepted all things 
in good part, and with wisdom and great patience dis- 
sembled the same, having Mistress Anne in more estima- 
tion for the king's sake, than she was before; declaring 
herself to be a very perfect Grissel, as her patient acts shall 
hereafter more evidently be declared," 

As regards the characterization of this play, perhaps 



KING HENRY VIII introduction 

there need nothing further be said; though there is much 
more that would well bear dwelling upon. Taken alto- 
gether, its most note-worthy feature seems to lie in com- 
bining a very strict adherence to history with the Poet's 
peculiar mode of conceiving and working out character; 
thus showing that his creative powers could have all the 
freedom they desired under the severest laws of actual 
truth. The portrait of Henry, considering all the circum- 
stances in which it was drawn, is a remarkable piece of 
work, being no less true to the original than politic as 
regards the author ; for the cause which Henry had been 
made to serve, though against his will and from the very 
rampancy of his vices, had rendered it a long and hard 
process for the nation to see him as he was. His fero- 
cious, low-minded ruffianism is set forth without palliation 
or disguise, yet with such simplicity of dealing as if the 
Poet himself were scarce aware of it : yet when one of the 
speakers is made to say of the king, — "His conscience has 
crept too near another lady," — it is manifest that Shake- 
speare understood ^lis character perfectly. His little tra- 
ditional peculiarities of manner, which would be ridiculous, 
but that his boisterous savageness of temper renders them 
dreadful, so that they move disgust and terror at the same 
time; and the mixture of hypocrisy and fanaticism which 
endeavors to misderive his bad passions, his cruelty and 
lust, from divine sources, thus making Pleaven responsible 
for the devil that is in him, and in the strength of which 
he is enabled to believe a lie, even while he knows it is a 
lie, and because he wishes it true; — all these things are 
shown up without malignity indeed, but without mercy too ; 
the Poet nowhere betraying any the least judgment or 
leaning either for or against him, insomuch as almost to 
leave it doubtful whether himself disapproved of what he 
was showing. The secret of all which is, that Shake- 
speare does not expressly and as from himself draw and 
mold the king's character, but, in his usual way, allows 
him freely to characterize himself by his own words and 
deeds. 



Introduction THE LIFE OF 

And in the brief but searching delineation of Anne 
Boleyn there is drawn together the essence of a long his- 
tory. With little or nothing in her of a substantive or 
positive nature one way or the other; with scarce any 
legitimate object-matter of respect or confidence, she is 
notwithstanding rather an amiable person ; possessed with 
a girlish fancy and hankering for the vain pomps and frip- 
peries of state, but having no sense of its duties and dig- 
nities. She has a kindly and pitiful heart, but is so void 
of womanly principle and delicacy as to be from the first 
evidently flattered and elated by those royal benevolences, 
which to any just sensibility of honor would minister noth- 
ing but humiliation and shame. She has a real and true 
pity for the good queen ; but her pity goes altogether on 
false grounds ; and she shows by the .very terms of it 
her eager and uneasy longing after what she scarcely 
more fears than hopes the queen is about to lose. She 
strikes infinitely below the true grounds and sources of 
Katharine's noble sorrow, and that in such a way as to 
indicate her utter inability to reacl\ or conceive them; 
and thus serves to set off and enhance the deep and solid 
character of her of Avhose sole truth is not so much a qual- 
ity, as it is the very substance and essential form ; and who, 
from the serene and steady light thence shining within her, 
much rather than from any acuteness or strength of intel- 
lect, is enabled to detect the crooked policy and duplicity 
which are playing their engines about her. For, as Mrs. 
Jameson justly observes, this thorough honesty and in- 
tegrity of heart, this perfect truth in the inward parts, is 
as hard to be deceived, as it is incapable of deceiving. We 
can well imagine, that with those of the Poet's audience 
who had any knowledge of English history, and many of 
them no doubt had much, the delineation of Anne, broken 
off, as it is, at the height of her fortune, must needs have 
sent their thoi;ights forward to reflect how the self -same 
levity of character, which lifted her into Katharine's place, 
soon afterwards drew on herself a far more sudden and 
terrible reverse than had overtaken those on whose ruins she 
xl 



KING HENRY VIII Introduction 

had risen. And indeed some such thing may be needful, in 
order to excuse the Poet, on the score of art, for not 
carrying out the truth of history from seed-time to harvest, 
or at least indicating the consummation of that whereof he 
so faithfully unfolds the beginnings. For, that the play 
is historically true so far as it goes, strengthens the reason 
for that completeness which enters into the proper idea of 
historical truth. 

Nevertheless, the moral effect of the play is very im- 
pressive and very just. And the lesson evolved, so far as 
it can be gathered into generalities, may be said to stand 
in showing how sorrow makes sacred the wearer, and how, 
to our human feelings, suffering, if borne with true dignity 
and strength of soul, covers a multitude of sins ; or, to 
carry out this point with more special reference to Kath- 
arine, the lesson is stated by Mrs. Jameson, with her usual 
felicity, to consist in illustrating how, by the union of per- 
fect truth with entire benevolence of character, a queen and 
heroine of tragedy, though "stripped of all the pomp of 
place and circumstance," and without any of "the usual 
sources of poetical interest, as youth, beauty, grace, fancy, 
commanding intellect, could depend on the moral principle 
alone, to touch the very springs of feeling in our bosoms, 
and melt and elevate our hearts through the purest and 
holiest impulses." 



xli 



COMMENTS 

By Shakespearean Schoiars 

KATHARINE 

Dr. Johnson observed that the genius of Shakspere 
comes in and goes out with Queen Katharine. What then 
chiefly interested the dramatist in this designed and partly 
accompHshed Henry VIII? The presence of a noble suf- 
ferer, — one who was grievously wronged, and who by a 
plain loyalty to what is faithful and true, by a disinter- 
estedness of soul, and enduring magnanimity, passes out of 
all passion and personal resentment into the reality of 
things, in which much indeed of pain remains, but no 
ignoble wrath or shallow bitterness of heart. Her earnest 
endeavor for the welfare of her English subjects is made 
with fearless and calm persistence in the face of Wolsey's 
opposition. It is integrity and freedom from self-regard 
set over against guile, and power, and pride. In her trial- 
scene the indignation of Katharine flashes forth against 
the Cardinal, but is an indignation which unswervingly 
progresses towards and penetrates into the truth. — Dow- 
den, Shakspere — His Mind and Art. 

With all his desire to please his royal mistress, Shak- 
speare has yet never once depreciated the virtues of the 
good Queen Katharine, or drawn a veil over her injuries. 
He has made her the most prominent, as well as the most 
amiable, sufferer in his drama ; and, in thus closely adhering 
to the truth of history, he pays a silent tribute to the lib- 
erality of Elizabeth, more worth than all his warmest 
eulogiums. — Inchbald, King Henry VIII in The British 
Theatre. 

xlii 



KING HENRY VIII Comments 



KATHARINE AND ANNE BULLEN 

The two female characters between whom Henry" is 
placed betray the same masterly manner of dramatic de- 
lineation, although one is a mere sketch. Katharine is 
a touching model of womanly virtue and gentleness, of 
conjugal devotion and love, and of Christian patience in 
defenseless suffering. She is surrounded by the most vir- 
tuous company ; her enemy is compelled to praise in her 
a "disposition gentle" and a "wisdom o'ertopping woman's' 
power." She has never done evil which must seek con- 
cealment; she was incapable of calumny and injury. Only 
when a natural instinct provokes her against an artful 
intriguer, to whom, while led away by his ambition, virtue 
is a folly, and when she has to take poor subjects under 
her protection against oppression, then only does her vir- 
tue impart to her a sting, which, however, never trans- 
gresses the limits of womanly refinement. She loves her 
husband "with that excellence that angels love good men 
with"; almost bigoted in her love, she dreams of no joy 
beyond his pleasure ; he himself testifies to her that she 
was never opposed to his wishes, that she was of wife-like 
government, commanding in obeying ; all his caprices she 
bore with the most saint-like patience. To see herself di- 
vorced from him after twenty years of happiness is a 
load of sorrow which only the noblest of women can bear 
with dignity and resignation ; to descend from the high po- 
sition of queen is moreover painful to the royal Spaniard, 
But she is ready to lead a life of seclusion in homely 
simplicity, and to bless her faithless, cruel husband even 
to the hour of her death. Her soul had remained beautiful 
upon the throne, in her outward degradation it was more 
beautiful still ; she goes to the grave reconciled with her 
true enemy and destroyer. Johnson has ranked her death 
scene as above any scene in any other poet ; so much was 
he Impressed with Its profound effect, unaided by romantic 
contrivance, and apart from all unnatural bursts of poetic 
lamentation and the ebullitions of stormy sorrow. One 
xliii 



Comments TJdLE LIFE OF 

womanly weakness the poet (In obedience to history) has 
imputed to her even to the brink of the grave: even in the 
hour of death, and after she has indeed seen heaven open, 
she clings to the royal honor which belongs to her. The 
poet indicates in Anne Bullen the counterpart to this 
Aveakness, He has portraj^ed this "fresh-fish," the rising 
queen, only from a distance, he has rather declared than 
exhibited her beauty, her loveliness, and chastity, her com- 
pleteness in mind and feature ; he does not attempt to en- 
•list us excessively in her favor, when he exhibits her so 
merry in the society of a Sands ; moreover, all place greater 
stress upon the blessing which is to descend from her than 
upon herself. The introductory scene makes us believe 
that she is as free from ambitious views as she asserts ; her 
conversation indeed with the court lady convinces us as 
little as the former that she could not reconcile herself to 
splendid honors when they Avere laid upon her. We see 
her not as queen, but we see her self-love flattered so far 
that we can well divine that, raised out of her lowly posi- 
tion, she would play the part of queen as well as Katharine 
did that of a domestic woman. — Gervinus, Shakespeare 
Commentaries. 

ANNE 

What was the real position of Anne now in the midst 
of all these stirring events? Shakespeare's portrait of 
her in the two scenes (aside from the coronation) in which 
she is introduced has all the delicacy of a rare water-color, 
daintily washed in. Before the subject of Katharine's di- 
vorce is touched upon, the poet with his dramatic Instinct 
presents Anne to his audience at one of the fashionable 
masques of the time, in Wolsey's house, where she meets the 
king by poetic license for the first time. The meaning is 
to convey, subtly and without offense to Henry's memory, 
the well-known fact that the king had long known and 
paid his royal attention to Anne. Perhaps there was here 
a delicate reference to the often-referred-to fact, that al- 
though Anne accepted favors from the royal hand in the 
xliv 



KING HENRY VIII Comments 

shape of titles and estates, she bestowed none in return 
until as a lawful wife she could with honor. Such an in- 
terference could not fail to be gratefully received by Anne's 
daughter, and Shakespeare among his other talents pos- 
sessed those of an accomplished courtier. — Warner, Eng- 
lish History in Shakespem-e's Plays. 

The scene in wliich Anna Bullen is introduced as ex- 
pressing her grief and sympathy for her royal mistress is 
exquisitely graceful. 

Here's the pang that pinches: 
His highness having liv'd so long with her, and she 
So good a lady, that no tongue could ever 

How completely, in the few passages appropriated to 
Anna Bullen, is her character portrayed ! with what a deli- 
cate and yet luxuriant grace is she sketched off, with her 
gaiety and her beauty, her levity, her extreme mobility, 
her sweetness of disposition, her tenderness of heart, and, 
in short, all her fevialities! How nobly has Shakspeare 
done justice to the two Avomen, and heightened our inter- 
est in both, by placing the praises of Katherine in the 
mouth of Anna Bullen ! and how characteristic of the lat- 
ter, that she should first express unbounded pity for her 
mistress, insisting chiefly on her fall from her regal state 
and worldly pomp, thus betraying her own disposition — 

For she that had all the fair parts of woman, 
Had, too, a woman's heart, which ever yet 
Affected eminence, wealth, and sovereignty. 

That she should call the loss of temporal pomp, once 
enjoyed, "a sufferance equal to soul and body's severing"; 
that she should immediately protest that she would not 
herself be a queen — "No, good troth ! not for all the riches 
under heaven !" — and not long afterwards ascend without 
reluctance that throne and bed from which her royal mis- 
tress had been so cruelly divorced ! — how natural ! The 
portrait is not less true and masterly than that of Kath- 
erine ; but the character is overborne by the superior moral 
xlv 



Comments THE LIFE OF 

firmness and intrinsic excellence of the latter. That we 
may be more fully sensible of this contrast, the beautiful 
scene just alluded to immediately precedes Katherine's 
trial at Blackfriars, and' the description of Anna Bullen's 
triumphant beauty at her coronation, is placed immediately 
before the dying scene of Katherine ; yet with equal good 
taste and good feeling Shakspeare has constantly avoided 
all personal collision between the two characters ; nor does 
Anna Bullen ever appear as queen except in the pageant 
of the procession. — Jameson, Shakspeare' s Heroines, 

WOLSEY 

Wolsey is Shakespeare's most elaborate picture, and he 
has many, of the arrogant, scheming and unchristian 
churchman. The strongest lines mark his duplicitj^ of act 
and word, his envy, malice and pitilessness against Buck- 
ingham, Catharine, Pace or Bullen — the dim-burning light 
that with off-hand severity he would snuff out ; and yet so 
soon as his own n.iin explodes he turns upon those who 
triumph in his fall, some like Surrey not without good ex- 
cuse, and taxes them indignantly with envy and malice, 
— their ignorance of truth, — he who sO' often had pro- 
faned his gift of ingratiating language to betray, — with 
shameful want of manners, thus imputing the faults with 
which he of all others is most chargeable. Yet strange to' 
say in all this seeming impudent self-assertion he is al- 
ready becoming more truthful. His defenselessness comes 
bitterly home to him, and he grasps about wildly and 
eagerly for those weapons and the armor, that would be- 
stead him in such need; and as he vainly searches in his 
soul for the resources he has forfeited he becomes con- 
scious of his past and irreparable improvidence. Re- 
lieved from the obstructions of place and power, he soon 
sees with clear eye from what quarter might have come en- 
tire protection against, or compensation for any danger, 
and any insult and fall. The very features of the vices he 
has been practising are reflected before him in the ex- 
xlvi 



KING HENRY VIII Comments 

ultatlon of the enemies who have leapt Into his position, 
and with sudden pang he notes and hates their despicable- 
ness in himself. Such is the process of the purification of 
his mind, and the sign of it is that the taunts of the nobles 
have their eifect in composing his mind rather than agi- 
tating or irritating it. In a bright outburst of moral en- 
lightenment we note the refreshment and very rejuvenes- 
cence of the soul, which Shakespeare is our warrant may 
truly come over the corrupt, — the criminal. No repent- 
ance will ever undo and reverse the full consequence of 
wrong, for the better life of the man may sigh as vainly 
to recover the misused capacities and opportunities of 
youth and boyhood as their lost hours ; yet is not the great 
Order merciless, nor are they dreamers and deceivers of 
the fanatical who tell that it remains for the wrong-doer — 
who shall set a limit and say how heinously guilty — to ar- 
rive by whatever providential process at a newness of heart 
that places him in completest opposition to his former self, 
gives him the sense of triumph over his own former er- 
rors and enables him,- — the test of sincerity at last, to con- 
quer self in the future, and to find happiness in promoting 
happiness entirely independent of his own temporal suc- 
cess, and even at the expense of it. — Lloyd, Critical Es- 
says. 

INACCURACIES OF THE PLAY 

This very glorification of the House of Tudor has led 
him [Shakspeare] to commit offenses against historical 
truth in a way that he should not have done, because they 
are so many offenses against poetical beauty and the laws 
of dramatic art. Shakspeare has, it is true, not spared 
Henry's character: he appears everywhere as the obstinate, 
capricious, selfish and heartless man that he was — a slave 
to his favorites and to his passions. That Shakspeare has 
not expressly described him as such, that he has rather 
characterized him tacitly through his own actions, and no 
doubt sedulously pushed his good points into the fore- 
xlvii 



Comments THE LIFE OF 

ground, could not — without injustice — have been expected 
otherwise from a national poet who wrote in the reign of 
Henry's daughter, the universally honored Elizabeth. 
Further, that he does not describe Anne Boleyn exactly as 
she was — she who, indeed, at first rejected Henry's ad- 
vances, but afterwards lived with him in adultery for three 
years — is also excusable, seeing that ^he was Elizabeth's 
mother, and her doinrs iiad not ' i Shakspeare's time been 
fully disclosed, at all events the^j^ were not publicly narrated 
in the Chronicler and "^opuh^ hist'^ries. 

Some inaccuracies may be l^ft o t of consideration; for 
instance, that the opinions ex^ressec by the most eminent 
theologians iu regard to Henry's divorce were not in his 
favor, and that Thomas Cranmer was not quite the noble, 
amiable Christian character he is here represented. These 
are secondary circumstances which the poet was free to dis- 
pose of as he pleased. But one point, where he certainly 
is open to censure, is, that he has not riven us a full and 
complete account of the live, of Henry anr" Anne, but 
simply a portion of their history ; the representation there- 
fore becomes untrue from an ideal point of view as well. 
Not only does this offend the justice which proceeds from 
human thought, but it likewis ofi^nds poetical justice. 
Moreover, it is opposed to th-^^ true and actual justice of 
history when a man like Henr^ — the slave to his selfish 
caprice_, li ts and passions, the "nlay-ball in the hands of 
such a favorite as the ambitious, revengeful, intriguing 
Wolsey — a man who condemns the Duke of Buckingham 
to death without cause or justice, and who for his own low, 
sensual desires repudiates his amiable, pious, and most 
noble consort, whose only fault is a pardonable pride in 
her true majesty — when, I repeat, such a man is rewarded 
for his heavy transgressions with the hand of the woman 
he loves and by the birth of a fortunate child ; and again, 
when we see Anne Boleyn — ^who even in the drama seems 
burdened with a grievous sin, inasmuch as she forces her- 
self into the place belonging to the unjustly banished 
Queen — leave the stage simply as the happy, extolled 
xlviii 



KING HENRY VIII Comments 

mother of such a child, and in the f ull *en j oyment of her 
unlawful possession. This is not the course taken by his- 
tory. We know, and it was alwa3^s well known, that Henry 
died while still in the prime of life and after much suffer- 
ing, in consequence of his excessive dissipations — a wreck 
in body as well as in mind ; we know, and it can never have 
been a secret, that Anne, after a short period of happiness, 
and not altogether unjustly, ended her frivolous life in 
prison, into which she was thrown at her own husband's 
command. — Ulkici, Shakspeare's Dramatic Art. 

THE PIECEMEAL CHARACTER 

The piecemeal character of the play is set forth in the 
Prologue; comedy will be excluded (yet the comic ele- 
ment appears in the persons of the "Old Lady" and the 
Porter) ; but there will be occasion, it tells us, for pity, 
for the belief in truth, and for the delight in pageantry ; 
in other words, the tragedy will be spoilt by history, and 
spectacular display will come to the rescue of both. As 
with the play, so with the characters ; there is no leading 
character because there is no leading drama ; Henry is 
variously and fitfully drawn, chiefly because the artist 
must devote his best time and pains to the canvas of 
Katherine ; except perhaps at the close we are left in doubt 
as to whether he is noble or ignoble, a hero or a tj^rant. 
Much the same may be said of Wolsey, Buckingham, and 
Anne Bullen ; all this, however, is of less consequence as we 
possess the perfect picture of Katherine. — Luce, Hand- 
book to Shakespeare's Works 

LACK OF UNITY 

As a whole, for all its splendors, the play has no kind 
of unity, and is rather a pageant than a drama. The tex- 
ture is often thin, rhetorical, and vague to an extent al- 
most incredible in the creator of The Tempest. Neither 
the tragedy of Wolsey nor that of the Queen is fully 
xlix 



Comments THE LIFE OF 

worked out, while the ending is feeble and inconsequent. 
The last act has, in fact, no relations to those preceding 
it, and very little interest of any kind. — Seccombe and 
Allen, The Age of Shakespeare. 

THE STYLE OF THE DRAMA 

We have a few words to add on the style of this drauia. 
It is remarkable for the elliptical construction of many 
of the sentences, and for an occasional peculiarity in the 
versification, which is not found in any other of Shak- 
spere's works. The Roman plays, decidedly amongst the 
latest of his productions, possess a colloquial freedom of 
versification which in some cases approaches almost to rug- 
gedness. But in the Henry VIII this freedom is carried 
much farther. We have repeated instances in which the 
lines are so constructed that it is impossible to read them 
with the slightest pause at the end of each line: — the sen- 
tence must be run together, so as to produce more the ef- 
fect of measured prose than of blank-verse. As an exam- 
ple of what we mean we will write a sentence of fourteen 
lines as if it had been printed as prose: — 

"Hence I took a thought this was a judgment on me; that my 
kingdom, well worthy the best heir of the world, should not be 
gladdened in 't by me: Then follows, that I weigh'd the danger 
which my realms stood in by this my issue's fail: and that gave to rae 
many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in the wild sea of my con- 
science, I did steer toward this remedy, whereupon we are now pres- 
ent here together; that is to say, I meant to rectify my conscience, — 
which I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, — by all the reverend 
fathers of the land, and doctors learn'd." 

If the reader will turn to the passage (Act II, sc. Iv) he 
will see that many of the lines end with particles, and that 
scarcely one of the lines is marked by a pause at the ter- 
mination. Many other passages could be pointed out by 
this peculiarity. A theory has been set up that Jonson 
"tampered" with the versification. We hold this notion to 
be utterly untenable ; for there is no play of Shakspere'3 



KING HENRY VIII Comments 

which has a more decided character of unity — no one from 
which any passage could be less easily struck out. We 
believe that Shakspere worked in this particular upon a 
principle of art which he had proposed to himself to ad- 
here to, wherever the nature of the scene Avould allow. 
The elliptical construction, and the license of versification, 
brought the dialogue, whenever the speaker was not neces- 
sarily rhetorical, closer to the language of common life. 
Of all his historical plays, the Henry VIII is the nearest 
in its story to his own times. It professed to be a "truth." 
It belongs to his own country. It has no poetical indis- 
tinctness about it, either of time or place: all is defined. 
If the diction and the versification had been more artificial 
it would have been less a reality. — Knight, Pictorial Shake- 
speare. 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE 
LIFE OF KING HENRY VIII 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

King Henry the Eighth 

Cardinaj, Wolsey 

Cardinal Campeitjs 

Capuciijs, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V 

Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury 

Duke of Norfolk 

Duke of Buckingham 

Duke of Suffolk 

Earl of Surrey 

Lord Chamberlain 

Lord Chancellor 

Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester 

Bishop of Lincoln 

Lord Abergavenny 

Lord Sands 

Sir Henry Guildford 

Sir Thomas Lovell 

Sir Anthony Denny 

Sir Nicholas Vaux 

Secretaries to Wolsey 

Cromwell, Servant to Wolsey 

Griffith, Gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine 

Three Gentlemen 

Doctor Butts, Physician to the King 

Garter King-at-Arms 

Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham 

Brandon, and a Sergeant-at-Arms 

Door-keeper at the Council-chamber. Porter, and his Man 

Page to Gardiner. A Crier 

Queen Katharine, wife to King Henry, afterwards divorced 
Anne Bullen, her Maid of Honor, afterioards Queen 
An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen 
Patience, woman to Qtieen Katharine 

Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women attending 
upon the Queen ; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants 

Spirits 

Scene: London, Westminster; Kimholton 



SYNOPSIS 

Bj J. Ellis Burdick 



Henry VIII has returned from France and from his 
interview with the king of that country on the Field of 
the Cloth of Gold. The Duke of Buckingham quarrels 
with Cardinal Wolsey, the lord chancellor, and the cardinal 
has the Duke arrested, charged with high treason, A great 
court supper is given by Wolsey at his palace in York 
place. The king and his lords attend in masks and hab- 
ited like shepherds. The beauty, grace, and wit of Anne 
Bullen, maid of honor to Queen Katharine, greatly attracts 
the king. 

ACT II 

Buckingham is tried, and from the testimony of bribed 
witness, is found guilty of high treason and condemned 
to death. The king's conscience begins to trouble him, 
for he had married his brother's widow, and he consults 
Wolsey as to whether he should divorce her. The queen 
is brought to public trial, with Wolsey and another car- 
dinal as judges. She refuses to accept Wolsey as her 
judge, believing the king's desire to divorce her to be a 
scheme of Wolsey's to rid himself of her influence over the 
king. She appeals to the Pope. 



Suddenly Wolsey sees why Henry wishes to put away 
Katharine — he desires to marry Anne Bullen. The car- 
dinal writes a letter to the Pope, which miscarries and 
falls into the king's hand, along with an Inventory of 
3 



Synopsis KING HENRY VIII 

Wolsey's property, most of which he had accumulated by 
appropriating to himself a great deal of the money raised 
by taxation. The king, angry at Wolsey's treachery, 
takes from him all of his civil offices and declares all his 
goods, lands, tenements, chattels, and whatever to be for- 
feited. In the meantime, the king has obtained from Cran- 
mer. Archbishop of Canterbury, an opinion on his divorce 
favorable to his own views, has put away the queen, and 
has secretly married Anne Bullen. 



Cardinal Wolsey is arrested charged with high treason, 
but dies before his trial. Shortly after Queen Katharine 
dies. The coronation of Anne takes place with great 
pomp and magnificence. Cranmer anoints her queen. 



Cranmer's favor with the king arouses the jealousy of 
some powerful nobles. They plot his downfall and bring 
him to trial. They are about to send him to the Tower 
when the king enters and orders his release and asks him 
to christen Anne's daughter, Elizabeth. This he does and 
prophesies that "peace, plenty, love, truth, terror," shall 
all be servants of this royal infant in the days to come. 



I 



SYNOPSIS 

Bj J. Ellis Burdick 



Henry VIII has returned from France and from his 
interview with the king of that country on the Field of 
the Cloth of Gold, The Duke of Buckingham quarrels 
with Cardinal Wolsey, the lord chancellor, and the cardinal 
has the Duke arrested, charged with high treason. A great 
court supper is given by Wolsey at his palace in York 
place. The king and his lords attend in masks and hab- 
ited like shepherds. The beauty, grace, and wit of Anne 
Bullen, maid of honor to Queen Katharine, greatly attracts 
the king. 

ACT II 

Buckingham is tried, and from the testimony of bribed 
witness, is found guilty of high treason and condemned 
to death. The king's conscience begins to trouble him, 
for he had married his brother's widow, and he consults 
Wolsey as to whether he should divorce her. The queen 
is brought to public trial, with Wolsey and another car- 
dinal as judges. She refuses to accept Wolsey as her 
judge, believing the king's desire to divorce her to be a 
scheme of Wolsey's to rid himself of her influence over the 
king. She appeals to the Pope. 



Suddenly Wolsey sees why Henry wishes to put away 
Katharine — he desires to marry Anne Bullen.- The car- 
dinal writes a letter to the Pope, which miscarries and 
falls into the king's hand, along with an inventory of 



Synopsis KING HENRY VIII 

Wolsey's property, most of which he had accumulated by 
appropriating to himself a great deal of the money raised 
by taxation. The king, angry at Wolsey's treachery, 
takes from him all of his civil offices and declares all his 
goods, lands, tenements, chattels, and whatever to be for- 
feited. In the meantime, the king has obtained from Cran- 
mer. Archbishop of Canterbury, an opinion on his divorce 
favorable to his own views, has put away the queen, and 
has secretly married Anne Bullen. 



Cardinal Wolsey is arrested charged with high treason, 
but dies before his trial. Shortly after Queen Katharine 
dies. The coronation of Anne takes place with great 
pomp and magnificence. Cranmer anoints her queen. 



Cranmer's favor with the king arouses the jealousy of 
some powerful nobles. They plot his downfall and bring 
him to trial. They are about to send him' to the Tower 
when the king enters and orders his release and asks him 
to christen Anne's daughter, Elizabeth. This he does and 
prophesies that "peace, plenty, love, truth, terror," shall 
all be servants of this royal infant in the days to come. 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF 
THE LIFE OF 

KING HENRY VIII 

THE PROLOGUE 

I come no more to make you laugh : things now. 
That bear a weighty and a serious brow, 
Sad, high and working, full of state and woe. 
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, 
We now present. Those that can pity, here 
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear ; 
The subject will deserve it. Such as give 
Their money out of hope they may believe, 
May here find truth too. Those that come to 

see 
Only a show or two, and so agree 10 

The play may pass, if they be still and willing, 
I '11 undertake may see away their shilling 
Richly in two short hours. Only they 
That come to hear a merry bawdy play, 
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow 
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, 

3. "high and working"; Staunton reads "and high-working." — 
I. G. 

12. "shilling"; the usual price for a seat on or next the stage. — ■ 
I. G. 

16. "a long motley coat"; the professional garb of the fool or 
jester.— I. G. 





Prologue THE LIFE OF 

Will be deceived ; for, gentle hearers, know. 
To rank our chosen truth with such a show 
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting 
Our own brains and the opinion that we bring 
To make that only true we now intend, 21 

Will leave us never an understanding friend. 
Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are 

known 
The first and happiest hearers of the town. 
Be sad, as we would make ye : think ye see 
The very persons of our noble story 
As they were living; think you see them great, 
And foUow'd with the general throng and 

sweat 

19. "As fool and fight"; "This is not the only passage," says John- 
son, "in which Shakespeare has discovered his conviction of the im- 
propriety of battles represented on the stage. He knew that five 
or six men, with swords, gave a very unsatisfactory idea of an 
army; and therefore, without much care to excuse his former prac- 
tice, he allows that a theatrical fight would destroy all opinion of 
truth, and leave him never an understanding friend." The Prologue, 
partly on the strength of this passage, has been by some ascribed 
to Ben Jonson. It certainly accords well with what he says in the 
prologue to Every Man in his Humour, though this nowise infers 
the conclusion some would draw from it: 

"Though need make many poets, and some such 
As art and nature have not better'd much; 
Yet ours for want hath not so lov'd the stage. 
As he dare serve the ill customs of the age; 
To make a child, now swaddled, to proceed 
Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed. 
Past threescore years; or, with three rusty sicords, 
And help of some feio foot and half-foot words, 
Fight over York and Lancaster's long jars, 
And in the tyring-house bring loounds to scars. — H. N. H. 
21. The line is either to be taken as a parenthesis, "that" re- 
ferring to "opinion" (= reputation) ; or as following directly on 
"opinion," i. e. "the reputation we bring of making what we repre- 
sent strictly in accordance with truth." — I. G. 



THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF 
THE LIFE OF 

KING HENRY VIII 

THE PROLOGUE 

I come no more to make you laugh : things now. 
That bear a weighty and a serious brow, 
Sad, high and working, full of state and woe, 
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, 
We now present. Those that can pity, here 
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear ; 
The subject will deserve it. Such as give 
Their money out of hope they may believe. 
May here find truth too. Those that come to 

see 
Only a show or two, and so agree 10 

The play may pass, if they be still and willing, 
I '11 undertake may see away their shilling 
Richly in two short hours. Only they 
That come to hear a merry bawdy play, 
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow 
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, 

3. "high and working"; Staunton reads "and high-ioorking." — ■ 
I. G. 

12, "shilling"; the usual price for a seat on or next the stage. — 
I. G. 

16. "a long motley coatf'; the professional garb of the fool or 
jester. — I. G. 



Prologue THE LIFE OF 

Will be deceived ; for, gentle hearers, know, 
To rank our chosen truth with such a show 
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting 
Our own brains and the opinion that we bring 
To make that only true we now intend, 21 

Will leave us never an understanding friend. 
Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are 

known 
The first and happiest hearers of the town. 
Be sad, as we would make ye : think ye see 
The very persons of our noble story 
As they were living; think you see them great. 
And follow'd with the general throng and 

sweat 

19. "As fool and fight"; "This is not the only passage," says John- 
son, "in which Shakespeare has discovered his conviction of the im- 
propriety of battles represented on the stage. He knew that five 
or six men, with swords, gave a very unsatisfactory idea of an 
army; and therefore, without much care to excuse his former prac- 
tice, he allows that a theatrical fight would destroy all opinion of 
truth, and leave him never an understanding friend." The Prologue, 
partly on the strength of this passage, has been by some ascribed 
to Ben Jonson. It certainly accords well with what he says in the 
prologue to Every Man in his Hiimour, though this nowise infers 
the conclusion some would draw from it: 

"Though need make many poet^, and some such 
As art and nature have not better'd much; 
Yet ours for want hath not so lov'd the stage, 
As he dare serve the ill customs of the age; 
To make a child, now swaddled, to proceed 
Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed. 
Past threescore years; or, with three rusty swords, 
And help of some few foot and half-foot words, 
Fight oiier York and Lancaster's long jars. 
And in the tyring-house bring ivouncls to scars. — H. N. H. 
21. The line is either to be taken as a parenthesis, "that" re- 
ferring to "opinion" (::= reputation) ; or as following directly on 
"opinion," i. e. "the reputation we bring of making what we repre- 
sent strictly in accordance with truth."— I. G. 



KING HENRY VIII Prologue 

Of thousand friends ; then, in a moment, see 
How soon this mightiness meets misery: 30 
And if you can be merry then, I '11 say 
A man may weep upon his wedding-day. 



Act L Sc. L THE LIFE OF 

ACT FIRST 

Scene I 

London. An ante-chamber in the palace. 

Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the 
other,, the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord 
Abergavenny. 

Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye 
done 

Since last we saw in France? 
Nor. I thank your grace, 

Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer 

Of what I saw there. 

1. "Enter the Duke of Norfolk," etc.; Thomas Howard, the pres- 
ent duke of Norfolk, is the same person who figures as earl of 
Surrey in King Richard III. His father's rank and titles, having 
been lost by the part he took with Richard, were restored to him 
by Henry VIII in 1514, soon after his great victory over the Scots 
at Flodden. His wife was Anne, third daughter of Edward IV, 
and so, of course, aunt to the king. He died in 1525, and was suc- 
ceeded by his son Thomas, earl of Surrey. The Poet, however, con- 
tinues them as duke and earl to the end of the play; at least he 
does not distinguish between them and their successors. — Edward 
Stafford, the Buckingham of this play, was son to Henry, the Buck- 
ingham of King Richard HI. The father's titles and estates, having 
been declared forfeit and confiscate by Richard, were restored to the 
son by Henry VII in the first year of his reign, 1485. In descent, 
in wealth, and in personal gifts, the latter was the most illustrious 
nobleman in the court of Henry VIII. In the record of his arraign- 
ment and trial he is termed, says Holinshed, "the floure and mirror 
of all courtesie." His oldest daughter, Elizabeth, was married to the 
earl of Surrey; Mary, his youngest, to George Neville, Lord Aberga- 
venny. — H. N, H. 

a 



KING HENRY VIII Prologue 

Of thousand friends ; then, in a moment, see 
How soon this mightiness meets misery: 30 
And if you can be merry then, I '11 say 
A man may weep upon his wedding-day. 



Act I. Sc. I THE LIFE OF 

ACT FIRST 

Scene I 

London. An ante-chamher in the palace. 

Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the 
other, the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord 
Abergavenny. 

Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye 
done 

Since last we saw in France? 
Nor. I thank your grace, 

Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer 

Of what I saw there. 

1. "Enter the Duke of Norfolk," etc.; Thomas Howard, the pres- 
ent duke of Norfolk, is the same person who figures as earl of 
Surrey in King Richard III. His father's rank and titles, having 
been lost by the part he took with Richard, M'ere restored to him 
by Henry VIII in 1514, soon after his great victory over the Scots 
at Flodden. His wife was Anne, third daughter of Edward IV, 
and so, of course, aunt to the king. He died in 1525, and was suc- 
ceeded by his son Thomas, earl of Surrey. The Poet, however, con- 
tinues them as duke and earl to the end of the play; at least he 
does not distinguish between them and their successors. — Edward 
Stafford, the Buckingham of this play, was son to Henry, the Buck- 
ingham of King Richard HI. The father's titles and estates, having 
been declared forfeit and confiscate by Richard, were restored to tlie 
son by Henry VII in the first year of his reign, 1485. In descent, 
in wealth, and in personal gifts, the latter was the most illustrious 
nobleman in the court of Henry VIII. In the record of his arraign- 
ment and trial he is termed, says Holinshed, "the floure and mirror 
of all courtesie." His oldest daughter, Elizabeth, was married to the 
earl of Surrey; Mary, his youngest, to George Neville, Lord Aberga- 
venny. — H. N. H. 

8 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

Buck. An untimely ague 

Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when 
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, 
Met in the vale of Andren. 

No?'. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde; 

I was then present, saw them salute on horse- 
back ; 
Beheld them, when they 'lighted, how they 

clung 
In their embracement, as they grew together ; 10 
Which had they, what four throned ones could 

have weigh'd 
Such a compounded one? 

Buck. All the whole time 

I was my chamber's prisoner. 

Nor. " Then you lost 

The view of earthly glory : men might say. 
Till this time pomp was single, but now mar- 
ried 
To one above itself. Each following day 
Became the next day's master, till the last 
Made former wonders its. To-day the French, 
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, 
Shone down the English; and to-morrow they 
Made Britain India : every man that stood 21 
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were 

6. "Those suns of glory"; i. e. Francis I, King of France, and 
Henry VIIT, King of England; Ff. 3, 4 read "sons."— I. G. 

7. "the vale of Andren." "'Twizt Guynes and Arde." Guynes, a 
town in Picardy belonging to the English; Arde, a town in Picardy 
belonging to the French; the vale of Andren between the two towns 
was the scene of the famous "Field of the Cloth of Gold."— I. G. 

17. "Became the next day's master"; taught and transmitted its 
triumphs to the next day. — C. H. H. 

9 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

As cherubins, all gilt : the madams too, 
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear 
The pride upon them, that their very labor 
Was to them as a painting : now this masque 
Was cried incomparable ; and the ensuing night 
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, 
Equal in luster, were now best, now worst. 
As presence did present them ; him in eye 30 
Still him in praise ; and being present both, 
'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner 
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these 

suns — 
For so they phrase 'em — by their heralds chal- 
lenged 
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform 
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabu- 
lous story. 
Being now seen possible enough, got credit. 
That Bevis was believed. 
Buck. O, you go far. 

Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect 

In honor honesty, the tract of every thing 40 
Would by a good discourser lose some life, 
Which action's self was tongue to. All was 

royal; 
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd ; 
Order gave each thing view; the office did 

25. "-pride"; splendid vesture. — C. H. H. 

"their very labor was to them as a fainting"; i. e. the exertion 
inflamed their cheeks. — C. H. H. 

33. "saw but one"; their appearance was indistinguishable. — C. 
H. H. 

40. "tract"; course.— C. H. H. 

44. "office"; officers.— C. H. H. 

10 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

Buck. An untimely ague 

Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when 
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, 
Met in the vale of Andren. 

Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde; 

I was then present, saw them salute on horse- 
back ; 
Beheld them, when they 'lighted, how they 

clung 
In their embracement, as they grew together ; 10 
Which had they, what four throned ones could 

have weigh' d 
Such a compounded one? 

Buck. All the whole time 

I was my chamber's prisoner. 

Nor. Then you lost 

The view of earthly glory : men might say. 
Till this time pomp was single, but now mar- 
ried 
To one above itself. Each following day 
Became the next day's master, till the last 
Made former wonders its. To-day the French, 
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods. 
Shone down the EngHsh; and to-morrow they 
Made Britain India : every man that stood 21 
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were 

6. "Those Sims of glory"; i. e. Francis I, King of France, and 
Henry VIII, King of England; Ff. 3, 4 read "sons."— I. G. 

7. "the vale of Andren." " 'Tivizt Ouynes and Arde." Guynes, a 
town in Picardy belonging to the English; Arde, a town in Picardy 
belonging to the French; the vale of Andren between the two towns 
was the scene of the famous "Field of the Cloth of Gold."— I. G. 

17. "Became the next day's master"; taught and transmitted its 
triumphs to the next day,— C. H, H. 

9 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

As cherubins, all gilt : the madams too, 
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear 
The pride upon them, that their very labor 
Was to them as a painting : now this masque 
Was cried incomparable ; and the ensuing night 
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, 
Equal in luster, were now best, now worst, 
As presence did present them; him in eye 30 
Still him in praise ; and being present both, 
'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner 
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these 

suns — 
For so they phrase 'em — by their heralds chal- 
lenged 
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform 
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabu- 
lous story. 
Being now seen possible enough, got credit, 
That Bevis was believed. 
Buck. O, you go far. 

Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect 

In honor honesty, the tract of every thing 40 
Would by a good discourser lose some life. 
Which action's self was tongue to. All was 

royal; 
To the disposing of it nought rebell'd ; 
Order gave each thing view; the office did 



25. 


'pride". 


splendid 


vesture.— C. H. 


H. 




"their very 


labor was to them as a 


painting"; i. e. the exertion 


inflam 


ed their cheeks.- 


-C. H. 


H. 






33. 


"saw but one"; 


their 


appearance was 


indistinguishable.— C. 


H. H 














40. 


"tract"; 


course.— 


-C. H. 


H. 






44. 


"office". 


officers.- 


-C. H 


H. 
10 







KING HENRY VIII Act l. Sc. i. 

Distinctly his full function. 

Buck. Who did guide, 

I mean, who set the body and the limbs 
Of this great sport together, as you guess? 

Nor. One, certes, that promises no element 
In such a business. 

Buck. I pray you, who, my lord? 

Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion 50 
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. 

Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed 
From his ambitious finger. What had he 
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder 
That such a keech can with his very bulk 
Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun, 
And keep it from the earth. 

Nor. Surely, sir, 

There 's in him stuff that puts him to these 

ends; 
For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace 
Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon 60 
For high feats done to the crown; neither al- 

hed 
To eminent assistants; but, spider-like. 
Out of his self -drawing web, he gives us note. 
The force of his own merit makes his way ; 

48. "element" here is commonly explained to mean the first prin- 
ciples or rudiments of knowledge. Is it not rather used in the 
same sense as when we say of anyone, that he is out of his element.^ 
From Wolsejr's calling, they would no more think he could be at 
home in such matters, than a fish could swim in the air, or a bird 
fly in the water. — In the original, the words, "as you guess," begin 
this speech, instead of closing the preceding. — H. N. H. 

63. Capell's reading of F. 1, "but spider-like. Out of his selfe- 
drawing web, O gives us note." Further, Capell and Rowe substi- 
tuted "self-drawn" for "self-drawing."— I, G. 
11 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys 
A place next to the king. 

Aber. I cannot tell 

What heaven hath given him; let some graver 

eye 
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride 
Peep through each part of him : whence has he 

that? 
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard, ^^ 
Or has given all before, and he begins 
A new hell in himself. 

Buck. , Why the devil. 

Upon this French going out, took he upon him. 
Without the privity o' the king, to appoint 
Who should attend on him? He makes up the 

file 
Of all the gentry; for the most part such 
To whom as great a charge as little honor 
He meant to lay upon : and his own letter. 
The honorable board of council out. 
Must fetch him in the papers. 

Aber. I do know 80 

Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have 
By this so sicken'd their estates that never 
They shall abound as formerly. 

Buck. O, many 

79, 80. "The honorable . . . out, . . . him in the papers"; 
Ff. 1, 3, read "The Councell, out . . . him in, he papers," elc. 
Pope's explanation of these awkward lines is probably correct: — 
"His own letter, by his own single authority, and without the con- 
currence of the council, must fetch him in whom he papers" (i, e. 
registers on the paper). Various emendations have been proposed; 
e. g. "the papers"; "he paupers." — I. G. 

12 



KING HENRY VIII Act l. Sc. i. 

Distinctly his full function. 

Buck. Who did guide, 

I mean, who set the body and the limbs 
Of this great sport together, as you guess? 

Nor. One, certes, that promises no element 
In such a business. 

Buck, I pray you, who, my lord? 

Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion 50 
Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. 

Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed 
From his ambitious finger. What had he 
To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder 
That such a keech can with his very bulk 
Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun. 
And keep it from the earth. 

Nor. Surely, sir. 

There 's in him stuff that puts him to these 

ends ; 
For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace 
Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon 60 
For high feats done to the crown; neither al- 
lied 
To eminent assistants; but, spider-like. 
Out of his self -drawing web, he gives us note. 
The force of his own merit makes his way ; 

4-8. "element" here is commonly explained to mean the first prin- 
ciples or rudiments of knowledge. Is it not rather used in the 
same sense as when we say of anyone, that he is out of his element? 
From Wolsey's calling, they would no more think he could be at 
home in such matters, than a fish could swim in the air, or a bird 
fly in the water. — In the original, the words, "as you guess," begin 
this speech, instead of closing the preceding. — H. N. H. 

63. Capell's reading of F. 1, "but spider-like, Out of his selfe- 
drawing loeb, O gives us note." Further, Capell and Rowe substi- 
tuted "self-drawn" for "self-draidng." — I. G. 
II 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys 
A place next to the king. 

Abet\ I cannot tell 

What heaven hath given him; let some graver 

eye 
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride 
Peep through each part of him: whence has he 

that? 
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard, 70 
Or has given all before, and he begins 
A new hell in himself. 

Buck. Why the devil. 

Upon this French going out, took he upon him, 
Without the privity o' the king, to appoint 
Who should attend on him? He makes up the 

file 
Of all the gentry; for the most part such 
To whom as great a charge as little honor 
He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, 
The honorable board of council out. 
Must fetch him in the papers. 

Aber. I do know 80 

Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have 
By this so sicken'd their estates that never 
They shall abound as formerly. 

Buck. O, many 

79, 80. "The honorable . . . out, . . . him in the papers"; 
Ff. 1, 2, read "The Councell, out . . . Mm in, he papers," etc. 
Pope's explanation of these awkward lines is probably correct: — 
"His own letter, by his own single authority, and without the con- 
currence of the council, must fetch him in whom he papers" (i. e. 
registers on the paper). Various emendations 'have been proposed; 
e. g. "the papers"; "he paupers." — I. G. 

12 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

Have broke their backs with laying manors on 
'em 

For this great journey. What did this vanity 

But minister communication of 

A most poor issue? 
Nor. Grievingly I think, 

The peace between the French and us not values 

The cost that did conclude it. 
Buck. Every man, 

After the hideous storm that f ollow'd, was 90 

A thing inspired, and not consulting broke 

Into a general prophecy : That this tempest. 

Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded 

The sudden breach on 't. 
Nor. Which is budded out; 

For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath 
attach'd 

Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. 

84. "have broke their backs"; "In the interview at Andren," says 
Dr, Lingard, "not only the two kings, but also their attendants, 
sought to surpass each other in the magnificence of their dress, and 
the display of their riches. Of the French nobility it was said that 
many carried their xohole estates on their backs: among the English 
the duke of Buckingham ventured to express his marked disapproba- 
tion of a visit which had led to so much useless expense." And in 
a note he adds the following from Du Bellay's account of the mat- 
ter: "Plusieurs y porterent leurs moulins, leurs forests, et leurs 
prez sur leurs ^paules." Whence Shakespeai-e may have borrowed 
the expression in the text, if indeed he borrowed it, does not appear. 
The passage might be cited as going to show that his reading in 
English history was not confined, as some would have us believe, to 
Holinshed.— H. N. H. 

86. "minister communication" ; Collier MS., "the consummation"; 
but the phrase is Holinshed's. — I. G. 

90. "the hideous storm"; "On Mondaie, the eighteenth of June, was 
such an hideous storme of wind and weather, that manie coniectured 
it did prognosticate trouble and hatred shortlie after to follow be- 
tweene princes" (Holinshed). — I. G. 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFi? OF 

Aber, Is it theifefore 

The ambassador is silenced? 

Nor. Marry, is 't. 

Aber. A proper title of a peace, and purchased 
At a superfluous rate ! 

Buck. Why, all this business 

Our reverend cardinal carried. 

Nor. Like it your grace, IQO 

The state takes notice of the private diiFerence 
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you — 
And take it from a heart that wishes towards 

you 
Honor and plenteous safety — that you read 
The cardinal's malice and his potency 
Together ; to consider further that 
What his high hatred would eifect wants not 
A minister in his power. You know his nature, 
That he 's revengeful, and I know his sword 
Hath a sharp edge ; it 's long and 't may be said 
It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, m 
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel; 
You '11 find it wholesome. Lo, where comes 

that rock 
That I advise your shunning. 

Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before 
hinij, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries 
with papers. The Cardinal in his passage 
fioceth his eye on Buckingham, and Bucking- 
ham- on him J both full of disdain, 

97. "The ambassador" ; i. e. the French ambassador at the English 
court. He was "commanded to keep his house [in silence] and not 
come in presence till he was sent for" (ib. 872; Halle, 632).— C. H. H. 
14 . 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc, i. 

Have broke their backs with laying manors on 
'em 

For this great journey. What did this vanity 

But minister communication of 

A most poor issue ? 
No7\ Grievingly I think, 

The peace between the French and us not values 

The cost that did conclude it. 
Buck. Every man, 

After the hideous storm that follow'd, was 90 

A thing inspired, and not consulting broke 

Into a general prophecy : That this tempest. 

Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded 

The sudden breach on 't. 
Nor. Which is budded out ; 

For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath 
attach'd 

Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. 

84. "have broke their backs"; "In the interview at Andren," says 
Dr. Lingard, "not only the two kings, but also their attendants, 
sought to surpass each other in the magnificence of their dress, and 
the display of their riches. Of the French nobility it was said that 
many carried their ivhole estates on their backs: among the English 
the duke of Buckingham ventured to express his marked disapproba- 
tion of a visit which had led to so much useless expense." And in 
a note he adds the following from Du Bellay's account of the mat- 
ter: "Plusieurs y porterent leurs moulins, leurs forests, et leurs 
prez sur leurs epaules." Whence Shakespeare may have borrowed 
the expression in the text, if indeed he borroived it, does not appear. 
The passage might be cited as going to show that his reading in 
English history was not confined, as some would have us believe, to 
. Holinshed.— H. N. H. 

86. "minister communication" ; Collier MS., "tlie consummation"; 
but the phrase is Holinshed's. — I. G. 

90. "the hideous storm"; "On Mondaie, the eighteenth of June, was 
such an hideous storme of wind and weather, that manie coniectured 
it did prognosticate trouble and hatred shortlie after to follow be- 
tweene princes" (Holinshed). — I. G. 
IS 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE pF 

Aber. Is it ther^ore 

The ambassador is silenced? j 

Nor. Marry, is 't. | 

Aher. A proper title of a peace, and purchased 
At a superfluous rate ! 

Buck. Why, all this business 

Our reverend cardinal carried. 

Nor. Like it your grade, 100 

The state takes notice of the private difference 
Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you — 
And take it from a heart that wishes towards 

you 
Honor and plenteous safety — that you read 
The cardinal's malice and his potency 
Together ; to consider further that 
What his high hatred would efl'ect wants not 
A minister in his power. You know his nature, 
That he 's revengeful, and I know his sword 
Hath a sharp edge ; it 's long and 't may be said 
It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, m 
Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel; 
You '11 find it wholesome. Lo, where comes 

that rock 
That I advise your shunning. 

Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse home before 
him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries 
•with papers. The Cardinal in his passage 
fioceth his eye on Buckingham, and Bucking- 
ham on him, both full of disdain. 

97. "The ambassadot'" ; i. e. the French ambassador at the English 
court. He was "commanded to keep his house [in silence] and not 
come in presence till he was sent for" (ib. 872; Halle, 632).— C. H. H. 
14 



KIKG HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. i. 

Wol. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha! 

Where 's his examination? 
First Sec. Here, so please you. 

Wol. Is he in person ready? 

First Sec. Aye, please your grace. 

Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buck- 
ingham 
Shall lessen this big look. 

[Exeunt Wolsey and his Train. 

Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth' d, and I 

Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore 

best 121 

Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's 

book 
Outworths a noble's blood. 
Nor. What, are you chafed? 

Ask God for temperance ; that 's the appliance 

only 
Which your disease requires. 

115. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor was his cousin, Charles 
Knevet, or Knyvet, grandson of Humphrey Stafford, First Duke of 
Buckingham. — I. G. 

116. "examination"; deposition. — C. H. H. 

120. "This butcher's cur"; there was a tradition that Wolsey was 
the son of a butcher. But his father, as hath been ascertained 
from his will, was a burgess of considerable wealth, having "lands 
and tenements in Ipswich, and free and bond lands in Stoke"; 
which, at that time, would hardly consist with such a trade. Holin- 
shed, however, says, — "This Thomas Wolsie was a poore man's sonne 
of Ipswich, and there born, and, being but a child, verie apt to be 
learned: by his parents he was conveied to the universitie of Oxen- 
ford, where he shortlie prospered so in learning, as he was made 
bachellor of art when he passed not fifteen years of age, and was 
called most commonlie thorough the universitie the boie bachellor." 
— H. N. H. 

"venom-mouth'd"; Pope's reading; Ff. read "venom'd-mouth'd." 
-I. G. 

15 



Act I. Sc. I THE LIFE 



01' 



Buck. I read in 's looks 

Matter against me, and his eye reviled | 
Me as his abject object: at this instant i 
He bores me with some trick : he 's gone io the 

king; | 

I '11 follow and outstare him. 

Nor. Stay, my lord, 

And let your reason with your choler question 
What 'tis you go about : to climb steep hills 131 
Requires slow pace at first : anger is like 
A full-hot horse, who being allow' d his way, 
Self -mettle tires him. Not a man in England 
Can advise me like you : be to yourself 
As you would to your friend. 

Buck. I '11 to the king; 

And from a mouth of honor quite cry down 
This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim 
There 's difference in no persons. 

Nor. Be advised; 

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 140 

That it do singe yourself : we may outrun. 
By violent swiftness, that which we run at. 
And lose by over-running. Know you not. 
The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er 
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be ad= 

vised : 
I say again, there is no English soul 
More stronger to direct you than yourself. 
If with the sap of reason you would quench. 
Or but allay, the fire of passion. 

134. "Self -mettle"; his own high spirits. — C, H. H. 
138. "Ipswich"; Wolsey's birthplace.— C. H. H. 

16 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. i. 

Wol. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha ! 

Where 's his examination? 
First Sec. Here, so please you. 

Wol. Is he in person ready? 

First Sec. Aye, please your grace. 

Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buck- 
ingham ' 
Shall lessen this big look. 

[Exeunt Wolsey and his Train. 

Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I 

Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore 

best 121 

Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's 

book 
Outworths a noble's blood. 
Nor. What, are you chafed? 

Ask God for temperance ; that 's the appliance 

only 
Which your disease requires. 

115. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor was his cousin, Charles 
Knevet, or Knyvet, grandson of Humphrey Stafford, First Duke of 
Buckingham. — I. G. 

116. "examination"; deposition. — C. H. H. 

120, "This butcher's cur"; there was a tradition that Wolsey was 
the son of a butcher. But his father, as hath been ascertained 
from his will, was a burgess of considerable wealth, having "lands 
and tenements in Ipswich, and free arid bond lands in Stoke"; 
which, at that time, would hardly consist with such a trade. Holin- 
shed, however, says, — "This Thomas Wolsie was a poore man's Sonne 
of Ipswich, and there born, and, being but a child, verie apt to be 
learned: by his parents he was conveied to the universitie of Oxen- 
ford, where he shortlie prospered so in learning, as he was made 
bachellor of art when he passed not fifteen years of age, and was 
called most commonlie thorough the universitie the boie bachellor." 
— H. N. H. 

"venom-mouth'd" ; Pope's reading; Ff. read "venom'd-mouth'd." 
-I. G. 

15 



Act L Sc. i, THE LIFE m 

Buck. I read in 's looks 

Matter against me, and his eye reviled 
Me as his abject object: at this instant 
He bores me with some trick : he 's gone to the 

king; ; 

I '11 follow and outstare him. 

Nor. Stay, my lord, 

And let your reason with your choler question 
What 'tis you go about : to climb steep hills 131 
Requires slow pace at first : anger is like 
A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way. 
Self -mettle tires him. Not a man in England 
Can advise me like you : be to yourself 
As you would to your friend. 

Buck. I '11 to the king; 

And from a mouth of honor quite cry down 
This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim 
There 's difference in no persons. 

Nor. Be advised; 

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 140 

That it do singe yourself: we may outrun. 
By violent swiftness, that which we run at, 
And lose by over-running. Know you not. 
The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er 
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be ad= 

vised: 
I say again, there is no English soul 
More stronger to direct you than yourself, 
If with the sap of reason you would quench, 
Or but allay, the fire of passion. 

134. "Self -mettle"; his own high spirits. — C. H. H. 
138. "Ipswich"; Wolsey's birthplace.— C. H. H, 

16 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. i. 

Sir, 
I am thankful to you ; and I '11 go along 150 
By your prescription: but this top-proud fel- 
low — 
Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but 
From sincere motions — by intelligence 
And proofs as clear as founts in July when 
We see each grain of gravel, I do know 
To be corrupt and treasonous. 

Nor. Say not 'treasonous.' 

Buck. To the king I '11 say 't ; and make my vouch 
as strong 
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox. 
Or wolf, or both — for he is equal ravenous 
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief 160 
As able to perform 't; his mind and place 
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally — 
Only to show his pomp as well in France 
As here at home, suggests the king our master 
To this last costly treaty, the interview, 
That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a 

glass 
Did break i' the rinsing. 

Nor. Faith, and so it did. 

Buck. Pray, give me favor, sir. This cunning 
cardinal 

152. "Whom from the flow of gall I name not" etc.; i. e. "whom 
I mention, not because I am still angry," etc. — I. G. 

167. "rinsing," Pope's unnecessary emendation of the Folio read- 
ing "wrenching," which is evidently an error for "renching," a pro- 
vincial English cognate of "rinse," both words being ultimately de- 
rived from the same Scandinavian original, rinse, through the medium 
of French, rench, a direct borrowing; (Collier MS., "wrensing").— 
I. G. 

18 E 17 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE 



OF 



The articles o' the combination drew 
As himself pleased ; and they were ratified I 170 
As he cried 'Thus let be,' to as much end 
As give a crutch to the dead: but our count- 
cardinal I 
Has done this, and 'tis well ; for worthy W(^lsey, 
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this f oll(jws — 
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy I 
To the old dam, treason — Charles the emperor, 
Under pretense to see the queen his aunt — 
For 'twas indeed his color, but he came 
To whisper Wolsey — here makes visitation: 
His fears were that the interview betwixt 180 
England and France might through their amity 
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league 
Peep'd harms that menaced him : he privily 
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow — 
Which I do well, for I am sure the emperor 
Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was 

granted 
Ere it was ask'd — but when the way was made 
And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired. 
That he would please to alter the king's course. 
And break the foresaid peace. Let the king 
know, 190 

As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal 
Does buy and sell his honor as he pleases, 
And for his own advantage. 
Nor. I am sorry 

171. "to as much end"; with as much useful effect. — C. H. H. 

172. "count-cardinal" ; Pope proposed, "court-cardinal."— I. G. 
176. "Charles the Emperor," viz., Charles V, Emperor of Ger- 

OJan^; Kstherine was his mother's sister. — I. G. 
18 



! 

KIISG HENRY VIII Act I. Sc, i. 

Sir, 
I am thankful to you ; and I '11 go along 150 
By your prescription: but this top-proud fel- 
low — 
Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but 
From sincere motions — by intelligence 
And proofs as clear as founts in July when 
We see each grain of gravel, I do know 
To be corrupt and treasonous. 

Nor. Say not 'treasonous.' 

Buck. To the king I '11 say 't ; and make my vouch 
as strong 
As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox. 
Or wolf, or both — for he is equal ravenous 
As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief 160 
As able to perform 't; his mind and place 
Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally — 
Only to show his pomp as well in France 
As here at home, suggests the king our master 
To this last costly treaty, the interview. 
That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a 

glass 
Did break i' the rinsing. 

Nor. Faith, and so it did. 

Buck. Pray, give me favor, sir. This cunning 
cardinal 

152. "Whom from the flow of gall I name not," etc.; i. e. "whom 
I mention, not because I am still angry," etc. — I. G. 

167. "rinsing" Pope's unnecessary emendation of the Folio read- 
ing "wrenching," which is evidently an error for "renching," a pro- 
vincial English cognate of "rinse," both words being ultimately de- 
rived from the same Scandinavian original, rinse, through the medium 
of French, rench, a direct borrowing; (Collier MS., "wrensing"). — 
I. G. 

18 E 17 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

The articles o' the combination drew 

As himself pleased ; and they were ratified j 170 

As he cried 'Thus let be,' to as much end 

As give a crutch to the dead: but our ciunt- 

cardinal i 

Has done this, and 'tis well ; for worthy W|)lsey, 
Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows — 
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy 
To the old dam, treason — Charles the emperor, 
Under pretense to see the queen his aunt — 
For 'twas indeed his color, but he came 
To whisper Wolsey — here makes visitation: 
His fears were that the interview betwixt 180 
England and France might through their amity 
Breed him some prejudice; for from this league 
Peep'd harms that menaced him : he privily 
Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow — 
Which I do well, for I am sure the emperor 
Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was 

granted 
Ere it was ask'd — but when the way was made 
And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, 
That he would please to alter the king's course. 
And break the foresaid peace. Let the king 

know, 190 

As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal 
Does buy and sell his honor as he pleases. 
And for his own advantage. 
Nor. I am sorry 

171. "to as much end"; with as much useful effect. — C. H. H. 

172. "count-cardinal"; Pope proposed, "court-cardinal." — I. G. 
176. "Charles the Emperor," viz., Charles V, Emperor of Ger- 

aaanj'; J^atherine was his mother's sister. — I, G. 
18 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

To hear this of him, and could wish he were 
Something mistaken in 't. 
Buck. No, not a syllable : 

I do pronounce him in that very shape 
He shall appear in proof. 

Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at arms before him^ 
and two or three of the Guard. 

Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it. 

Serg. Sir, 

My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl 
Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I 
Arrest thee of high treason, in the name 201 

Of our most sovereign king. 

197. "Brandon." This is perhaps meant for Sir Thomas Brandon, 
master of the king's horse, whom Holinshed and Halle mention as 
in the royal train the day before Henry's coronation (Stone, Hol- 
inshed, p. 430 n.).— C. H. H. 

200. "Hereford"; Capell's reading; Ff., "Hertford."— I. G. 

201. The arrest of Buckingham took place April 16, 1521. The 
matter is thus related by Holinshed: "The cardinall, having taken 
the examination of Knevet, went unto the king, and declared unto 
him, that his person was in danger by such traitorous purpose as 
the duke of Buckingham had conceived in his heart, and shewed 
how that now there were manifest tokens of his wicked pretense; 
wherefore he exhorted the king to provide for his owne suertie with 
speed. The king hearing the accusation, inforced to the uttermost 
by the cardinall, made this answer: If the duke have deserved to 
be punished, let him have according to his deserts. The duke 
hereupon was sent for up to London, and at his comming thither 
was streightwaies attached, and brought to the Tower. There was 
also attached the foresaid Chartreux monke, maister John de la 
Car, alias de la Court, the dukes confessor, and sir Gilbert Perke 
priest, the dukes chancellor. After the apprehension of the duke, 
inquisitions were taken in divers shires of England, so that he was 
indicted of high treason, for certeine words spoken at Blechinglie 
to the lord of Abergavennie; and therewith was the same lord 
attached for concelement, and so likewise was the lord Montacute, 
pnd both Jed to the Tower."— H. N. H. 

19 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Buck. Lo you, my lord, 

The net has f all'n upon me ! I shall perish 

Under device and practice. 
Bran. I am sorry 

To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on 

The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure 

You shall to the Tower. 
Buck. It will help me nothing 

To plead mine innocence ; for that dye is on me 

Which makes my whitest part black. The wiU 
of heaven 

Be done in this and all things! I obey. 210 

O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! 
Bram. Nay, he must bear you company. [To 
Ahergavennyl The king 

Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know 

How he determines further. 
Aber. As the duke said, 

The will of heaven be done, and the king's 
pleasure 

By me obey'd ! 
Bran. Here is a warrant from 

The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the 
bodies 

204, 206. The meaning of these unsatisfactory lines seems to be, 
as Johnson explained, "I am sorry to be present, and an eye-witness 
of your loss of liberty." — I. G. 

211. "Abergavenny"; Ff., "Aburgany," the usual pronunciation 
of the name. — I. G. 

217. "Montacute"; Ff. read "Mountacute" ; Rowe reads "Monta- 
gue." — I. G. 

This was Henry Pole, grandson to George duke of Clarence, 
and eldest brother to Cardinal Pole. He had married Lord Aber- 
gavenny's daughter. Though restored to favor at this juncture, 
he was executed for another alleged treason in this reign. — H. N. H. 
20 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

To hear this of him, and could wish he were 
Something mistaken in 't. 
Buck. No, not a syllable : 

I do pronounce him in that very shape 
He shall appear in proof. 

Enter Brandon, a Sergeant at arms before him^ 
and two or three of the Guard. 

Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it. 

Serg. Sir, 

My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl 
Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I 
Arrest thee of high treason, in the name 201 

Of our most sovereign king. 

197. "Brandon." This is perhaps meant for Sir Thomas Brandon, 
master of the king's horse, whom HoHnshed and Halle mention as 
In the royal train the day before Henry's coronation (Stone, Hol~ 
inshed, p.' 430 n.).— C. H. H. 

200. "Hereford"; Capell's reading; Ff., "Hertford."— I. G. 

201. The arrest of Buckingham took place April 16, 1521. The 
matter is thus related by Holinshed: "The cardinall, having taken 
the examination of Knevet, went unto the king, and declared unto 
him, that his person was in danger by such traitorous purpose as 
the duke of Buckingham had conceived in his heart, and shewed 
how that now there were manifest tokens of his wicked pretense; 
wherefore he exhorted the king to provide for his owne suertie with 
speed. The king hearing the accusation, in forced to the uttermost 
by the cardinall, made this answer: If the duke have deserved to 
be punished, let him have according to his deserts. The duke 
hereupon was sent for up to London, and at his comming thither 
was streightwaies attached, and brought to the Tower. There was 
also attached the foresaid Chartreux monke, maister John de la 
Car, alias de la Court, the dukes confessor, and sir Gilbert Perke 
priest, the dukes chancellor. After the apprehension of the duke, 
inquisitions were taken in divers shires of England, so that he was 
indicted of high treason, for certeine words spoken at Blechinglie 
to the lord of Abergavennie ; and therewith was the same lord 
attached for concelement, and so likewise was the lord Montacute, 
^nd both led to the Tower."— H. N. H. 

19 



Act I. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Buck. Lo you, my lord. 

The net has f all'n upon me ! I shall perish 

Under device and practice. 
Bran. I am sorry 

To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on 

The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure 

You shall to the Tower. 
Buck. It will help me nothing 

To plead mine innocence ; for that dye is on me 

Which makes my whitest part black. The will 
of heaven 

Be done in this and all things! I obey. 210 

O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! 
Br am. Nay, he must bear you company. [To 
Abergavenny'] The king 

Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know 

How he determines further. 
Aher. As the duke said, 

The will of heaven be done, and the king's 
pleasure 

By me obey'd ! 
Bran. Here is a warrant from 

The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the 
bodies 

204, 206, The meaning of these unsatisfactory lines seems to be, 
as Johnson explained, "I am sorry to be present, and an eye-witness 
of your loss of liberty."— I. G. 

211. "Abergavenny"; Ff., "Aburgany," the usual pronunciation 
of the name. — I. G. 

217. "Montacute"; Ff. read "Mountacute" ; Rowe reads "Monta- 
gue." — I. G. 

This was Henry Pole, grandson to George duke of Clarence, 
and eldest brother to Cardinal Pole. He had married Lord Aber- 
gavenny's daughter. Though restored to favor at this juncture, 
he was executed for another alleged treason in this reign. — H. N. H. 
20 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, 
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,— 

Buck. So, so; 219 

These are the limbs o' the plot : no more, I hope. 

Bran. A monk o' the Chartreux. 

Buck O, Nicholas Hopkins? 

Bran. He. 

Buck. My surveyor is false ; the o'er-great cardinal 
Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd al- 
ready : 
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, 
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on. 
By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. 

[Ecceunt. 

219. "chancellor"; Theobald's correction; Ff. I, 2, read "Comwel- 
lour."—l. G. 

221. "Nicholas Hopkins"; Theobald's correction (from Holin- 
shed) of Ff., "Michaell" (probably due to printer's confusion of 
"Nich" with "Mich").— I. G. 

226. "cloud puts on"; the old copies all read, — "Whose figure even 
this instant cloud puts on"; out of which it seems impossible to make 
any tolerable sense. The changing of on into out was proposed by 
Dr. Johnson, and approved by Sir William Blackstone; and, in 
default of anything better, some of the best editors, as Singer 
and Verplanck, have adopted it. With this change, of course the 
metaphor turns on the well-known propensity of the sun to cast 
shadows, and of such shadows to vanish when his shining is cut 
off. So that the meaning can be none other than this: Stripped 
of my titles and possessions, I am but the shadow of what I was, 
— no longer duke of Buckingham, but only Edward Stafford; and 
even this poor figure or shadow a cloud this very instant puts out, 
reduces to nothing, by darkening my sun of life. — H. N. H. 



21 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 



Scene II 

The same. The council-chamber. 

Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Car- 
dinal's shoulder; the Nobles, and Sir Thomas 
JLovell: the Cardinal places himself under the 
King's feet on his right side. 

King. My life itself, and the best heart of it, 

Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the 

level 
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks 
To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us 
That gentleman of Buckingham's ; in person 
I '11 hear him his confessions justify; 
And point by point the treasons of his master 
He shall again relate. 

A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' 
Enter Queen Katharine, ushered by the Duke 
of Norfolk, and the Duke of Suffolk: she 
kneels. The King riseth from his state, 
takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him. 

Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel : I am a suitor. 
King. Arise, and take place by us: half your suit 

Never name to us ; you have half our power : H 

The other moiety ere you ask is given ; 

Repeat your will and take it. 
Q. Kath. Thank your majesty. 

That you would love yourself, and in that love 

13. "Repeat"; state.— C. H. H. 
22 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. i. 

Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, 
One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor, — 

Buck. So, so; 219 

These are the limbs o' the plot : no more, I hope. 

Bran. A monk o' the Chartreiix. 

Buck O, Nicholas Hopkins? 

Bran. He. 

Buck. My surveyor is false ; the o'er-great cardinal 
Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd al- 
ready : 
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, 
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on. 
By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. 

[Ea:eunt. 

219. "chancellor"; Theobald's correction; Ff. Ij 2, read "Coiiiwel- 
lour." — I. G. 

221. "Nicholas Hopkins"; Theobald's correction (from Holin- 
shed) of Ff., "Michaell" (probably due to printer's confusion of 
"Nich" with "Mich").— I. G. 

226. "cloud puts on"; the old copies all read, — "Whose figure even 
this instant cloud puts on"; out of which it seems impossible to make 
any tolerable sense. The changing of on into out was proposed by 
Dr. Johnson, and approved by Sir William Blackstone; and, in 
default of anything better, some of the best editors, as Singer 
and Verplanck, have adopted it. With this change, of course the 
metaphor turns on the well-known propensity of the sun to cast 
shadows, and of such shadows to vanish when his shining is cut 
off. So that the meaning can be none other than this: Stripped 
of my titles and possessions, I am but the shadow of what I was, 
— no longer duke of Buckingham, but only Edward Stafford; and 
even this poor figure or shadow a cloud this very instant puts outj 
reduces to nothing, by darkening my sun of life. — H. N. H. 



21 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 



Scene II 

The same. The. council-chamher. 

Cornets. Enter King Henry ^ leaning on the Car- 
dinal's shoulder; the Nobles, ai}d Sir Thomas 
Lovell: the Cardinal places himself under the 
King's feet on his right side. 

King. My life itself, and the best heart of it, 

Thanks you for this great care : I stood i' the 

level 
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks 
To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us 
That gentleman of Buckingham's ; in person 
I '11 hear him his confessions justify; 
And point by point the treasons of his master 
He shall again relate. 

A noise within^ crying "Room for the Queen!' 
Enter Queen Katharine, ushered by the Duke 
of Nor folk J and the Duke of Suffolk: she 
kneels. The King riseth from his state, 
takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him. 

Q. Kath. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. 
King. Arise, and take place by us : half your suit 

Never name to us ; you have half our power : H 

The other moiety ere you ask is given ; 

Repeat your will and take it. 
Q. Kath. Thank your majesty. 

That you would love yourself, and in that love 

13. "Repeat"; state.— C. H. H. 
22 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. ii. 

Not unconsider'd leave your honor nor 
The dignity of your office, is the point 
Of my petition. 

King. Lady mine, proceed. 

Q. Kath. 1 am soUcited, not by a few. 

And those of true condition, that your subjects 
Are in great grievance: there have been com- 
missions 20 
Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the 

heart 
Of all their loyalties : wherein although. 
My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches 
Most bitterly on you as putter on 
Of these exactions, yet the king our master — 
Whose honor heaven shield from soil! — even 

he escapes not 
Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks 
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears 
In loud rebellion. ' 

Nor, Not almost appears; 

It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, 30 
The clothiers all, not able to maintain 
The many to them 'longing, have put off 
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, 
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger 
And lack of other means, in desperate manner 
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar. 
And danger serves among them. 

King, Taxation ! 

27. "breaks the sides of loyalty"; passes the extremest verge of 
what loyaltj^ permits. — C. H. H. 

37. "danger serves among them"; Warburton is full of admiration 
at this sudden rising of the poet "to a height truly sublime!" where 
23 



Act 1. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardi- 
nal, 

You that are blamed for it alike with us, 

Know you of this taxation ? 
Wol. Please j^ou, sir, 40 

I know but of a single part in aught 

Pertains to the state, and front but in that file 

Where others tell steps with me. 
Q. Kath. No, my lord. 

You know no more than others : but you frame 

Things that are known alike, which are not 
wholesome 

To those which would not know them, and yet 
must 

Perforce be their acquaintance. These exac- 
tions. 

Whereof my sovereign would have note, they 
are 

Most pestilent to the hearing; and, to bear 'em. 

The back is sacrifice to the load. They say 50 

They are devised by you; or else you suffer 

Too hard an exclamation. 
King. Still exaction ! 

The nature of it ? in what kind, let 's know. 

Is this exaction? 
Q. Kath. I am much too venturous 

In tempting of your patience, but am bolden'd 

Under your promised pardon. The subjects' 
grief 

by the noblest stretch of fancy Danger is personified as serving in 
the rebel army, and shaking the government. — H. N. H. 

43. To "tell" was used for to count; as in the phrase, "keep tally" 
Still in use.— H. N. H. 

24 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. ii. 

Not unconsider'd leave your honor nor 
The dignity of your office, is the point 
Of my petition. 

King. Lady mine, proceed. 

Q. Kath. 1 am sohcited, not by a few. 

And those of true condition, that your subjects 
Are in great grievance: there have been com- 
missions 20 
Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the 

heart 
Of all their loyalties : wherein although. 
My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches 
Most bitterly on you as putter on 
Of these exactions, yet the king our master — 
Whose honor heaven shield from soil! — even 

he escapes not 
Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks 
The sides of loyalty, and almost appears 
In loud rebellion. 

Nor. Not almost appears; 

It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, 30 
The clothiers all, not able to maintain 
The many to them 'longing, have put oif 
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, 
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger 
And lack of other means, in desperate manner 
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, 
And danger serves among them. 

King. Taxation ! 

27. "breaks the sides of loyalty"; passes the extremest . verge of 
what loyalty permits. — C. H. H. 

37. "danger serves among them"; Warburton is full of admiration 
at this sudden rising of the poet "to a height truly sublime !" where 



Act 1. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardi- 
nal, 

You that are blamed for it alike with us, 

Know you of this taxation ? 
Wol. Please you, sir, 40 

I know but of a single part in aught 

Pertains to the state, and front but in that file 

Where others tell steps with me. 
Q. Kath. No, my lord. 

You know no more than others : but you frame 

Things that are known alike, which are not 
wholesome 

To those which would not know them, and yet 
must 

Perforce be their acquaintance. These exac- 
tions. 

Whereof my sovereign would have note, they 
are 

Most pestilent to the hearing ; and, to bear 'em, 

The back is sacrifice to the load. They say 50 

They are devised by you; or else you suffer 

Too hard an exclamation. 
King. Still exaction ! 

The nature of it ? in what kind, let 's know, 

Is this exaction? 
Q. Kath. I am much too venturous 

In tempting of your patience, but am bolden'd 

Under your promised pardon. The subjects' 
grief 

by the noblest stretch of fancy Danger is personified as serving in 
the rebel army, and shaking the government. — H. N. H. 

43. To "tell" was used for to count; as in the phrase, "keep tally" 
still in use.— H. N. H. 

24 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. ii. 

Comes through commissions, which compel 

from each 
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied 
Without delay ; and the pretense for this 
Is named your wars in France: this makes bold 

mouths : 60 

Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts 

freeze 
Allegiance in them ; their curses now 
Live where their prayers did ; and it 's come to 

pass, 
This tractable obedience is a slave 
To each incensed will. I would your highness 
Would give it quick consideration, for 
There is no primer business. 
King, By my life, 

This is against our pleasure. 
Wol. And for me, 

I have no further gone in this than by 
A single voice, and that not pass'd me but 70 
By learned approbation of the judges. If I 

am 
Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither 

know 
My faculties nor person, yet will be 
The chronicles of my doing, let me say 
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 
That virtue must go through. We must not 

stint 

64. That is, "obedience" is subdued, forced to succumb, by individ- 
ual will thus provoked.— H. N. H. 

67. "business"; Warburton's emendation of Ff., "baseness." — I. G. 

25 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Our necessary actions, in the fear 
To cope malicious censurers ; which ever, 
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow 
That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, 
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is 
Not ours or not allow'd ; what worst, as oft, 
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 
For our best act. If we shall stand still. 
In fear our notion will be mock'd or carp'd at. 
We should take root here where we sit, or sit 
State-statues only. 
King. Things done well, 

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear ; 
Things done without example, in their issue 90 
Are to be f ear'd. Have you a precedent 
Of this commission? I believe, not any. 
We must not rend our subjects from our laws, 
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? 
A trembling contribution! Why, we take 
From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the tim- 
ber, 
And though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, 
The air will drink the sap. To every county 
Where this is question'd send our letters, with 
Free pardon to each man that has denied 100 
The force of this commission : pray, look to 't ; 
I put it to your care. 
Wol. [To the Secretary] A word with you. 
Let there be letters writ to every shire. 
Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved 
commons 

26 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. ii. 

Comes through commissions, which compel 

from each 
The sixth part of his substance, to be levied 
Without delay ; and the pretense for this 
Is named your wars in France: this makes bold 

mouths : 60 

Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts 

freeze 
Allegiance in them ; their curses now 
Live where their prayers did ; and it 's come to 

pass, 
This tractable obedience is a slave 
To each incensed will. I would your highness 
Would give it quick consideration, for 
There is no primer business. 
King. By my life, 

This is against our pleasure. 
Wol. And for me, 

I have no further gone in this than by 
A single voice, and that not pass'd me but 70 
By learned approbation of the judges. If I 

am 
Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither 

know 
My faculties nor person, yet will be 
The chronicles of my doing, let me say 
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 
That virtue must go through. We must not 

stint 

64. That is, "obedience" is subdued, forced to succumb, by individ- 
ual will thus provoked. — H. N. H. 

67. "business"; Warburton's emendation of Ff., "baseness." — I. G. 

25 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Our necessary actions, in the fear 
To cope malicious censurers ; which ever, 
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow 
That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, 
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is 
Not ours or not allow'd ; what worst, as oft, 
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 
For our best act. If we shall stand still, 
In fear our notion will be mock'd or carp'd at. 
We should take root here where we sit, or sit 
State-statues only. 
King. Things done well, 

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear ; 
Things done without example, in their issue 90 
Are to be f ear'd. Have you a precedent 
Of this commission? I believe, not any. 
We must not rend our subjects from our laws, 
And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? 
A trembling contribution! Why, we take 
From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the tim- 
ber, 
And though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, 
The air will drink the sap. To every county 
Where this is question'd send our letters, with 
Free pardon to each man that has denied 100 
The force of this commission : pray, look to 't ; 
I put it to your care. 
Wol. [To the Secretary^ A word with you. 
Let there be letters writ to every shire, 
Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved 
commons 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. ii. 

Hardly conceive of me : let it be noised 
That through our intercession this revokement 
And pardon comes ; I shall anon advise you 
Further in the proceeding. \_Ea:it Secretary. 

Enter Surveyor. 

Q. Kath. 1 am sorry that the Duke of Bucking- 
ham 
Is run in your displeasure. 
King. It grieves many: HO 

The gentleman is learn' d and a most rare 

speaker ; 
, To nature none more bound; his training such 
That he may furnish and instruct great teach- 
ers, 
And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet 

see, 
When these so noble benefits shall prove 
Not well disposed, the mind growing once cor- 
rupt, 
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly 
Than ever they were fair. This man so com- 
plete,' 
Who was enroll' d 'mongst wonders, and when 

we. 
Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find 
His hour of speech a minute ; he, my lady, 121 
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces 
That once were his, and is become as black 
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall 
hear — 

110. "in"; into.— C. H. H. 
27 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

This was his gentleman in trust — of him 
Things to strike honor sad. Bid him recount 
The fore-recited practices; whereof 
We cannot feel too little, hear too much. 

Wol. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what 
you. 
Most like a careful subject, have collected 130 
Out of the Duke of Buckingham-. 

King. Speak freely. 

Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day 
It would infect his speech, that if the king 
Should without issue die, he '11 carry it so 
To make the scepter his : these very words . 
I 've heard him utter to his son-in-law. 
Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he 

menaced 
Revenge upon the cardinal. 

Wol. Please your highness, note 

This dangerous conception in this point. 
Not friended by his wish, to your high person 
His will is most malignant, and it stretches 141 
Beyond you to your friends. 

Q. Kath. My learn'd lord cardinal, 

Deliver all with charity. 

King. Speak on : 

How grounded he his title to the crown 
Upon our fail ? to this point hast thou heard him 
At any time speak aught? 

Surv. He was brought to this 

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton. 

147. "Henton"; i. e. Nicholas Hopkins, "a monk of an house of the 
Chartreux Order beside Bristow, called Henton" (Holinshed); there 
is no need to emend the text.— I. G. 
28 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. ii. 

Hardly conceive of me : let it be noised 
That through our intercession this revokement 
And pardon comes ; I shall anon advise you 
Further in the proceeding. [Exit Secretary. 

Enter Surveyor. 

Q. Kath. I am sorry that the Duke of Bucking- 
ham 
Is run in your displeasure. 
King. It grieves many: HO 

The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare 

speaker ; 
To nature none more bound ; his training such 
That he may furnish and instruct great teach- 
ers, 
And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet 

see. 
When these so noble benefits shall prove 
Not well disposed, the mind growing once cor- 
rupt. 
They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly 
Than ever they were fair. This man so com- 
plete, 
Who was enroll' d 'mongst wonders, and when 

we. 
Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find 
His hour of speech a minute ; he, my lady, 121 
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces 
That once were his, and is become as black 
As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall 
hear — 

110. "in"; into.— C. H. H. 
27 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

This was his gentleman in trust — of him 
Things to strike honor sad. Bid him recount 
The fore-recited practices; whereof 
We cannot feel too little, hear too much. 

Wol. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what 
you, ' 
Most like a careful subject, have collected 130 
Out of the Duke of Buckingham'. 

King. Speak freely. 

Surv. First, it was usual with him, every day 
It would infect his speech, that if the king 
Should without issue die, he '11 carry it so 
To make the scepter his : these very words 
I 've heard him utter to his son-in-law, 
Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he 

menaced 
Revenge upon the cardinal. 

Wol. Please your highness, note 

This dangerous conception in this point. 
Not friended by his wish, to your high person 
His will is most malignant, and it stretches 141 
Beyond you to your friends. 

Q. Kath. My learn'd lord cardinal. 

Deliver all with charity. 

King. Speak on: 

How grounded he his title to the crown 

Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him 

At any time speak aught? 

Surv. He was brought to this 

By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton. 

147. "Henton"; i. e. Nicholas Hopkins, "a monk of an house of the 
Chartreux Order beside Bristow, called Henton" (Holinshed); there 
is no need to emend the text. — I. G. 
38 






KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc, ii. 

King. What was that Henton? 

Surv. Sir, a Chartreux friar, 

His confessor, who fed him every minute 
With words of sovereignty. 

King. How know'st thou this? 150 

Surv. Not long before your highness sped to 
France, 
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish 
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand 
What was the speech among the Londoners 
Concerning the French journey: I rephed. 
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, 
To the king's danger. Presently the duke 
Said, 'twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted 
'T would prove the verity of certain words 
Spoke by a holy monk ; 'that oft,' says he, 160 
'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit 
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour 
To hear from him a matter of some moment : 
Whom after under the confession's seal 
He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke 
My chaplain to no creature living but 
To me should utter, with demure confidence 
This pausingly ensued : Neither the king nor 's 

heirs. 
Tell you the duke, shall prosper : bid him strive 
To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke 
Shall govern England.' 171 

164. "confession's seal"; Theobald's emendation (following Holin- 
shed) of Ff. "commissions." — I. G. 

170. "To gain"; the reading of F. 4; Ff. 1, 3, 3 read "To"; Collier 
MS. reads "To get"; Grant White, "To win."— I. G. 

171, "shall govern England"; the following from the Chronicles 

29 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Q. Kath. If I know you weU, 

You were the duke's surveyor and lost your 
office 

On the complaint o' the tenants: take good 
heed 

You charge not in your spleen a noble per- 
son 

And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; 

Yes, heartily beseech you. 

will serve as an instance how minutely the Poet adheres to truth 
in this play: "The same duke, the tenth of Male, in the twelfe yeare 
of the kings reigne, at London in a place called the Rose, within 
the parish of saint Laurence Poultnie, in Canwike street ward, de- 
manded of the said Charles Knevet esquier what was the talke 
amongest the Londoners concerning the kings journie beyond the 
seas. And the said Charles told him that manie stood in doubt of 
that journie, least the Frenchmen meant some deceit towards the 
king. Whereto the duke answered, that it was to be feared, least 
it would come to passe according to the words of a certeine holie 
moonke. For there is, saith he, a Chartreux moonke, that diverse 
times hath sent to me willing me to send unto him my chancellor. 
And I did send unto him John de la Court my chapleine, unto whome 
he would not declare anie thing, till de la Court had sworne to keep 
all things secret, and to tell no creature living what hee should heare 
of him, except it were to me. And then the said moonke told de la 
Court that neither the king nor his heires should prosper, and that 
I should indeavour myselfe to purchase the good wils of the com- 
munaltie; for I the same duke and my bloud should prosper, and 
have the rule of the realme of England." — H. N. H. 

1T5. "I say, take heed"; the honorable part which Katharine is 
made to act in this scene is unwarranted by history, save that, such 
was the reverence inspired by her virtue and sagacity, she served 
generally as a check both upon the despotic temper of her husband, 
and the all-grasping rapacity of his minister; as appears by the 
king's becoming such an inexpressible compound of crueltj^ mean- 
ness, and lust, when her influence was withdrawn. The matter to 
, which she here alludes is thus narrated by Holinshed: "It chanced 
that the duke, comming to London to attend the king into France, 
went before into Kent unto a manor place which he had there. And 
whilest he staied in that countrie till the king set forward, greevous 
complaints were exhibited to him by his farmars and tenants against 
Charles Knevet his surveiour, for such bribing as he had used there 
SO 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc, ii. 

King. What was that Henton? 

Surv. Sir, a Chartreux friar, 

His confessor, who fed him every minute 
With words of sovereignty. 

King. How know'st thou this? 150 

Surv. Not long before your highness sped to 
France, 
The duke being at the Rose, within the parish 
Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand 
What was the speech among the Londoners 
Concerning the French journey: I repUed, 
Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, 
To the king's danger. Presently the duke 
Said, 'twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted 
'Twould prove the verity of certain words 
Spoke by a holy monk ; 'that oft,' says he, 160 
'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit 
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour 
To hear from him a matter of some moment : 
Whom after under the confession's seal 
He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke 
My chaplain to no creature living but 
To me should utter, with demure confidence 
This pausingly ensued : Neither the king nor 's 

heirs, 
Tell you the duke, shall prosper : bid him strive 
To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke 
Shall govern England.' 171 

164. "confession's seal"; Theobald's emendation (following Holin- 
shed) of Ff. "commissions." — I. G. 

170. "To gain"; the reading of F. 4; Ff. 1, 2, 3 read "To"; Collier 
MS. reads "To get"; Grant White, "To win." — I. G. 

171, "shall govern England"; the following from the Chronicles 

29 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Q. Kath. If I know you well, 

You were the duke's surveyor and lost your 
office 

On the complaint o' the tenants: take good 
heed 

You charge not in your spleen a noble per- 
son 

And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; 

Yes, heartily beseech you. 

will serve as an instance how minutely the Poet adheres to truth 
in this play: "The same duke, the tenth of Maie, in the twelfe yeare 
of the kings reigne, at London in a place called the Rose, within 
the parish of saint Laurence Poultnie, in Canwike street ward, de- 
manded of the said Charles Knevet esquier what was the talke 
amongest the Londoners concerning the kings journie beyond the 
seas. And the said Charles told him that manie stood in doubt of 
that journie, least the Frenchmen meant some deceit towards the 
king. Whereto the duke answered, that it was to be feared, least 
it would come to passe according to the words of a certeine holie 
moonke. For there is, saith he, a Chartreux moonke, that diverse 
times hath sent to me willing me to send unto him my chancellor. 
And I did send unto him John de la Court my chapleine, unto whome 
he would not declare anie thing, till de la Court had sworne to keep 
all things secret, and to tell no creature living what hee should heare 
of him, except it were to me. And then the said moonke told de la 
Court that neither the king nor his heires should prosper, and that 
I should indeavour myselfe to purchase the good wils of the com- 
munaltie; for I the same duke and my bloud should prosper, and 
have the rule of the realme of England." — H. N. H. 

175. "/ say, take heed"; the honorable part which Katharine is 
made to act in this scene is unwarranted by history, save that, such 
was the reverence inspired by her virtue and sagacity, she served 
generally as a check both upon the despotic temper of her husband, 
and the all-grasping rapacity of his minister; as appears by the 
king's becoming such an inexpressible compound of cruelty, mean- 
ness, and lust, when her influence was withdrawn. The matter to 
which she here alludes is thus narrated by Holinshed: "It chanced 
that the duke, comming to London to attend the king into France, 
went before into Kent unto a manor place which he had there. And 
whilest he staied in that countrie till the king set forward, greevous 
complaints were exhibited to him by his favmars and tenants against 
Charles Knevet his surveiour, for such bribing as he had used there 
SO 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. ii. 

King. Let him on. 

Go forward. 

Surv. On my soul, I '11 speak but truth. 

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions 
The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas 

dangerous for him 
To ruminate on this so far, until 180 

It forged him some design, which, being be- 
lieved. 
It was much like to do : he answer 'd 'Tush, 
It can do me no damage ;' adding further. 
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd. 
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads 
Should have gone off. 

King. Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! 

There 's mischief in this man ; canst thou say 
further ? 

Surv. I can, my liege. 

King. Proceed. 

Surv. Being at Greenwich, 

After your highness had reproved the duke 
About Sir William Bulmer, — 

King. I remember 190 

Of such a time: being my sworn servant, 
The duke retain'd him his. But on; what 
hence ? 

amongest them. Whereupon the duke tooke such displeasure against 
him, that he deprived him of his office, not knowing how that in so 
dooing he procured his owne destruction, as after appeared." — 
H. N. H. 

179. "for Mm"; Capell's emendation of "For this" of the Ff.; 
Collier MS. reads "From this," etc. — I. G. 

190. "Bulmer"; Ff, read "Blumer"; Pope, "Blomer."—!. G. 

21 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Surv. 'If quoth he 'I for this had been committed, 
As to the Tower I thought, I would have play'd 
The part my father meant to act upon 
The usurper Richard; who, being at Sahsbury, 
Made suit to come in 's presence ; which if 

granted, 
As he made semblance of his duty, would 
Have put his knife into him.' 

King. A giant traitor! 

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in free- 
dom, 200 
And this man out of prison? 

Q.Kath. God mend all! 

King. There 's something more would out of thee ; 
what say'st? 

199. "lootdd have put his knife into him"; it will have been observed 
that the business of this scene is carried with somewhat the precision 
of legal proceedings. The matter was derived originally from Hall 
who was himself a lawyer, was of a manly age at the time, and had 
access to the official records of the trial. Here, as in many -other 
places, Holinshed copied Hall so closely as to leave it uncertain 
from which of them the Poet drew. The following passage will fur- 
ther illustrate the point of the preceding note: "The same duke, 
on the fourth of November, in the eleventh yere of the kings reigne, 
at east Greenwich in the countie of Kent, said unto one Charles 
Knevet esquier, after that the king had reprooved the duke for re- 
teining William Bulmer knight in his service, that if he had per- 
ceived that he should have been committed to the Tower, hee would 
have so wrought, that the principall dooers therein should not have 
had cause of great rejoising. For he would have plaied the part 
which his father intended to have put in practise against king 
Richard the third at Salisburie, who made earenest sute to have 
come unto the presence of the same king Richard; which sute if he 
might have obteined, he, having a knife secretlie about him, would 
have thrust it into the bodie of king Richard, as he had made 
semblance to kneele downe before him. And in speaking these words 
he maliciouslie laid his hand upon his dagger, and said that if he 
were so evill used, he would doo his best to accomplish his pur- 
pose, swearing, to confirme his word, by the bloud of our Lord." — 
See Kin(/ Richard III, Act V. sc. i.— H." N. H. 
82 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. ii. 

King. Let him on. 

Go forward. 

Surv. On my soul, I '11 speak but truth. 

I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions 
The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas 

dangerous for him 
To ruminate on this so far, until 180 

It forged him some design, which, being be- 
lieved, 
It was much like to do: he answer'd 'Tush, 
It can do me no damage ;' adding further. 
That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd. 
The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads 
Should have gone off. 

King. Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! 

There 's mischief in this man ; canst thou say 
further? 

Surv. I can, my liege. 

King. Proceed. 

Surv. Being at Greenwich, 

After your highness had reproved the duke 
About Sir William Bulmer, — 

King. I remember 190 

Of such a time: being my sworn servant, 
The duke retain'd him his. But on; what 
hence? 

amongest them. Whereupon the duke tooke such displeasure against 
him, that he deprived him of his office, not knowing how that in so 
dooing he procured his owne destruction, as after appeared." — 
H. N. H. 

179. "for Mm"; Capell's emendation of "For this" of the Ff.; 
Collier MS. reads "From this," etc. — I. G. 

190. "Bulmer"; Ff. read "Blumer"; Pope, "Blomer." — I. G. 

31 



Act I. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Surv. ^If ' quoth he 'I for this had been committed, 
As to the Tower I thought, I would have play'd 
The part my father meant to act upon 
The usurper Richard; who, being at Sahsbury, 
Made suit to come in 's presence ; which if 

granted, 
As he made semblance of his duty, would 
Have put his knife into him.' 

King. A giant traitor ! 

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in free- 
dom, 200 
And this man out of prison? 

Q.Kath. God mend all! 

King. There 's something more would out of thee ; 
what say 'st? 

199. "would have put his knife into him"; it will have been observed 
that the business of this scene is carried with somewhat the precision 
of legal proceedings. The matter was derived originally from Hall 
who was himself a lawyer, was of a manly age at the time, and had 
access to the official records of the trial. Here, as in many other 
places, Holinshed copied Hall so closely as to leave it uncertain 
from which of them the Poet drew. The following passage will fur- 
ther illustrate the point of the preceding note: "The same duke, 
on the fourth of November, in the eleventh yere of the kings reigne, 
at east Greenwich in the countie of Kent, said unto one Charles 
Knevet esquier, after that the king had reprooved the duke for re- 
teining William Bulmer knight in his service, that if he had per- 
ceived that he should have been committed to the Tower, hee would 
have so wrought, that the principall dooers therein should not have 
had cause of great rejoising. For he would have plaied the part 
which his father intended to have put in practise against king 
Richard the third at Salisburie, who made earenest sute to have 
come unto the presence of the same king Richard; which sute if he 
might have obteined, he, having a knife secretlie about him, would 
have thrust it into the bodie of king Richard, as he had made 
semblance to kneele downe before him. And in speaking these words 
he maliciouslie laid his hand upon his dagger, and said that if he 
were so evill used, he would doo his best to accomplish his pur- 
pose, swearing, to confirme his word, by the bloud of our Lord," — 
See Kinff Richard III, Act V. sc. i.— H." N. H. 
.^2 



KING HENRY VIII Act. l. Sc. iii. 

Surv. After 'the duke his father,' with the 'knife,' 
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dag- 
ger, 
Another spread on 's breast, mounting his eyes, 
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenor 
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo 
His father by as much as a performance 
Does an irresolute purpose. 

King. There 's his period. 

To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd ; 210 
Call him to present trial ; if he may 
Find mercy in the law, 'tis his ; if none 
Let him not seek 't of us : by day and night ! 
He 's traitor to the height. [Eoceunt. 



Scene III 

An antechamber in the palace. 

Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands. 

Cham. Is 't possible the spells of France should 
juggle 

Men into such strange mysteries ? 
Sands. New customs, 

Though they be never so ridiculous, 

- 1. "Enter Lord Chamberlain," etc.; Shakespeare has placed this 
scene in 1521. Charles Somerset, earl of Worcester, was then lord 
chamberlain, and continued in the office until his death, in 1536. 
But Cavendish, from whom this was originally taken, places this 
event at a later period, when Lord Sands himself was chamberlain. 
Sir William Sands, of the Vine, near Basingstoke, Hants, was 
created a peer in 1527. He succeeded the earl of Worcester as 
chamberlain.— H. N. H. 

XXIV— 3 33 



Act I. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are foUow'd. 
Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English 

Have got by the late voyage is but merely 

A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd 
ones ; 

For when they hold 'em, you would swear di- 
rectly 

Their very noses had been counselors 

To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. 10 
Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones : one 
would take it, 

That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin 

Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. 
Cham. Death! my lord, 

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too. 

That, sure, they 've worn out Christendom. 

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell. 

How now I 
What news. Sir Thomas Lovell? 
Lov. Faith, my lord, 

I hear of none but the new proclamation 
That 's clapp'd upon the court-gate. 
Cham. What is 't for? 

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants. 
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tail- 
ors. 20 
Cham. I 'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our 
monsieurs 

10. "keep state so"; affect such inordinate pomposity. — C. H. H. 
13. "Or springhalt"; Verplank's (Collier conj.) emendation of Ff., 
"A springhalt" ; Pope, "And springhalt." — I. G. 
15, "worn out"; outlasted. — C. H. H, 
34 



KING HENRY VIII Act. I. Sc. iii. 

Surv. After 'the duke his father,' with the 'knife,' 
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dag- 
ger, 
Another spread on 's breast, mounting his eyes, 
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenor 
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo 
His father by as much as a performance 
Does an irresolute purpose. 

King. There 's his period. 

To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd ; 210 
Call him to present trial ; if he may 
Find mercy in the law, 'tis his ; if none 
Let him not seek 't of us : by day and night ! 
He 's traitor to the height. [Exeunt. 



Scene III 

^An antechamber in the palace. 

Enter the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands. 

Cham. Is 't possible the spells of France should 
juggle 

Men into such strange mysteries ? 
Sands. New customs, ' 

Though they be never so ridiculous, 

1. "Enter Lord Chamberlain," etc.; Shakespeare has placed this 
scene in 1521. Charles Somerset, earl of Worcester, was then lord 
chamberlain, and continued in the office until his death, in 1526. 
But Cavendish, from whom this was originally taken, places this 
event at a later period, when Lord Sands himself was chamberlain. 
Sir William Sands, of the Vine, near Basingstoke, Hants, was 
created a peer in 1527. He succeeded the earl of Worcester as 
chamberlain. — H. N. H. 

XXIV-3 S3 



Act I. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. 
Cham. As far as I see, all the good our English 

Have got by the late voyage is but merely 

A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd 
ones; 

For when they hold 'em, you would swear di- 
rectly 

Their very noses had been counselors 

To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. 10 
Sands. They have all new legs, and lame ones : one 
would take it. 

That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin 

Or springhalt reign' d among 'em. 
Cham. Death! my lord, 

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too. 

That, sure, they 've worn out Christendom. 

Enter Sir Thomas Lovell. 

How now! 
What news. Sir Thomas Lovell? 
Lov. Faith, my lord, 

I hear of none but the new proclamation 
That 's clapp'd upon the court-gate. 
Cham. What is 't for? 

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants. 
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tail- 
ors. 20 
Cham. I 'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our 
monsieurs 

10. "keep state so"; affect such inordinate pomposity. — C. H. H. 
13. "Or springhalt"; Verplank's (Collier conj.) emendation of Ff., 
"A springhalt"; Pope, "And springhalt." — I. G. 
la. "worn out"; outlasted. — C. H. H. 
34 



KING HENRY VIII Act. i. Sc. iii. 

To think an English courtier may be wise. 
And never see the Louvre. 

JLov. They must either, 

For so run the conditions, leave those remnants 
Of fool and feather that they got in France, 
With all their honorable points of ignorance 
Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, 
Abusing better men than they can be 
Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean 29 
The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings. 
Short blister'd breeches and those types of 

travel. 
And understand again like honest men. 
Or pack to their old playfellows : there, I take it. 
They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away 
The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'd 
at. 

Sands. ^Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases 
Are grown so catching. 

Cham. What a loss our ladies 

Will have of these trim vanities ! 

Lov. Aye, marry. 

There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whore- 
sons 
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies ; 
A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. 41 

Sands. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are 
going, 
For, sure, there 's no converting of 'em : now 

30. "The faith they have in tennis"; the game was peculiarly in 
vogue among the French. — C. H. H. 

34. "wear"; the reading of Ff. 2, 3, 4; F. 1 reads "wee"; Anon, 
conj. "oui." — I. G. 

35 



Act I. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

An honest country lord, as I am, beaten 

A long time out of play, may bring his plain- 
song. 

And have an hour of hearing ; and, by 'r lady. 

Held current music too. 
Cham. Well said, Lord Sands; 

Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. 
Sands. No, my lord ; 

Nor shall not, while I have a stump. 
Cham. Sir Thomas, 

Whither were you a-going? 
Lov. To the cardinal's : 50 

Your lordship is a guest too. 
Cham. O, 'tis true : 

This night he makes a supper, and a great one, 

To many lords and ladies ; there will be 

The beauty of this kingdom, I '11 assure you. 
Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind in- 
deed, 

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us ; 

His dews fall every where. 
Cham. No doubt he 's noble; 

He had a black mouth that said other of him. 
Sands. He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him 

Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doc- 
trine: 60 

Men of his way should be most liberal; 

They are set here for examples. 
Cham. True, they are so; 

45. "plain-song"; simple melody, without variations. — C. H. H. 
55. "churchman"; ecclesiastic— C. H. H. 

59. "has wherewithal"; Ff., "ha's" probably an error for "'has," 
i. e. "(he) has." — I. G. 

36 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. iv. 

But few now give so great ones. My barge 

stays ; 
Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir 

Thomas, 
We shall be late else ; which I would not be, 
For I w^as spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford 
This night to be comptrollers. 
Sands. I am your lordship's. 

[Exeunt, 

Scene IV 

A hall in York Place. 

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the 
Cardinal, a longer table for the guests. Then 
enter Anne Bullen and divers other Ladies 
and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at an- 
other door, enter Sir Henry Guildford. 

Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace 
Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates 
To fair content and you : none here, he hopes, 
In all this noble bevy, has brought with her 
One care abroad ; he would have all as merry 
As, first, good company, good wine, good wel- 
come, 
Can make good people. 

63. "My barge stays"; the speaker is now in the king's palace at 
Bridewell, from whence he is proceeding by water to York-Place. — 
H. N. H. 

67. "comptrollers"; i. e. of the entertainment. — C. H. H. 

6. "As, first, ffood company"; so Ff. 1, 2, 3; F. 4 reads "As, first 
good company"; Theobald, "as, first-good company"; Halliwell, "as 
far as good company," etc. — I. G. 
37 



Act I. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and 
Sir Thomas Lovell. 

O, my lord, you 're tardy : 
The very thought of this fair company 
Clapp'd wings to me. 
Cham. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. 

Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal 10 
But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these 
Should find a running banquet ere they rested, 
I think would better please 'em : by my life, 
They are a sweet society of fair ones. 
Lov. O, that your lordship were but now confessor 

To one or two of these ! 
Sands. I would I were; 

They should find easy penance. 
Lov. Faith, how easy? 

Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. 
Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir 
Harry, 
Place you that side ; I '11 take the charge of this : 
His grace is entering. Nay, you must not 
freeze ; 21 

Two women placed together makes cold 

weather ; 
My I^ord Sands, you are one will keep 'em 

waking ; 
Pray, sit between these ladies. 
Sands. By my faith. 

And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet 

ladies : 
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; 

38 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. iv. 

I had it from my father. 
Anne. Was he mad, sir? 

Sands. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too : 

But he would bite none; just as I do now, 

He would kiss you twenty with a breath. 

[Kisses her. 
Cham, Well said, my lord. 30 

So, now you 're fairly seated. Gentlemen, 

The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies 

Pass away frowning. 
Sands. For my little cure, 

Let me alone. 

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, and 
takes his state. 

Wol. You 're welcome, my fair guests : that noble 
lady 

Or gentleman that is not freely merry, 

Is not my friend : this, to confirm my welcome ; 

And to you all, good health. [Drinks. 

Sands. Your grace is noble : 

Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks. 

And save me so much talking. 
JVol. My Lord Sands, 40 

I am beholding to you : cheer your neighbors. 

Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen. 

Whose fault is this? 
Sands. The red wine first must rise 

In their fair cheeks, my lord ; then we shall have 
'em 

Talk us to silence. 



Act I. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

Anne. You are a merry gamester. 

My Lord Sands. 
Sands. Yes, if I make my play. 

Here 's to your ladyship : and pledge it, madam, 

For 'tis to such a thing — 
Anne. You cannot show me. 

Sands. I told your grace they would talk anon. 

IDrum and trumpet: chambers discharged. 
Wol. What 's that? 

Cham. Look out there, some of ye. [Eocit Servant. 
Wol. What warlike voice, 50 

And to what end, is this ? Nay, ladies, fear not ; 

By all the laws of war you 're privileged. 

Re-enter Servant. 

Cham. How now! what is 't? 

Serv. A noble troop of strangers ; 

For so they seem : they 've left their barge, and 

landed ; 
And hither make, as great ambassadors 
From foreign princes. 
Wol. Good lord chamberlain, 

Go, give 'em welcome ; you can speak the French 

tongue ; 
And, pray, receive 'em nobly and conduct 'em 
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty 
Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend 
him. 60 

[Eocit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables 
removed. 

45. " gamestei^' ; frolicsome fellow. Sands plays on the word.— 
C. H. H. 

40 



KING HENRY VIII Act i. Sc. iv. 

You have now a broken banquet ; but we '11 

mend it. 
A good digestion to you all : and once more 
I shower a welcome On ye ; welcome all. 

Hautboys. Enter the King and others, as mas- 
quers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the 
Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly be- 
fore the Cardinal, and gracefully salute him. 

A noble company! what are their pleasures? 

64. "A noble company" ; the account of this banquet at York-Place 
was copied by Holinshed from The Life of Master Thomas Wolsey 
by Cavendish, in his Genlleman-Usher. The following will instance 
how little the Poet was here beholden to his invention: "The king 
came suddenlie thither in a maske with a dozen other maskers, all in 
garments like sheepheards, made of fine cloth of gold and crimson 
sattin paned, and caps of the same, with visards of good physnomie, 
their haires and beards either of fine gold-wire silke or blacke silke. 
He came by water to the water-gate without anie noise, where were 
laid diverse chambers charged, and at his landing they were shot off, 
which made such a rumble in the aire, that it was like thunder. It 
made all the noblemen, gentlemen, ladies, and gentlewomen to muse 
what it should meane, comming so suddenlie, they sitting quiet at a 
solemne banket. Then immediatelie the chamberlaine and comp- 
troller were sent to looke what it should meane, as though they knew 
nothing of the matter; who looking out of the windowes into the 
Thames, returned and shewed him, that it seemed they were noble- 
men and strangers that arrived at his bridge, comming as ambassa- 
dours from some forren prince. With that quoth the cardinall, I 
desire you, because you can speake French, to go into the hall, there 
to receive them according to their estates, and to conduct them into 
this chamber, where they shall see us and all these noble personages 
being merrie at our banket, desiring them to sit downe with us and 
take part of our fare. At their entering into the chamber two and 
two togither, they went directlie before the cardinall, and saluted 
him reverentlie. To whome the lord chamberlaine for them said, — 
Sir, forasmuch as they be strangers, and cannot speake English, they 
have desired me to declare unto you, that they, having understand- 
ing of this banket, where was assembled such a number of excellent 
dames, could do no lesse under support of your grace, but to re- 
paire hither, to view as well their incomparable beautie, as to accom- 
panie them at mum-chance, and then to danse with them." — H. N. H. 
41 



Act I. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they 
pray'd 
To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame 
Of this so noble and so fair assembly 
This night to meet here, they could do no less, 
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty. 
But leave their flocks, and under your fair con- 
duct 70 
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat 
An hour of revels with 'em. 
Wol. Say, lord chamberlain, 
They have done my poor house grace ; for which 

I pay 'em 
A thousand thanks and pray 'em take their 

pleasures. 
[They choose. The King chooses Anne Bullen. 
King. The fairest hand I ever touch'd ! O beauty, 
Till now I never knew thee ! [Music. Dance. 
Wol. My lord! 
Cham. Your grace? 

75. "The fairest hand I ever touched"; this incident of the king's 
dancing with Anne Boleyn did not occur during the banquet at York- 
House, but is judiciously introduced here from another occasion. 
Which occasion was a grand entertainment given by the king at 
Greenwich, May 5, 1527, to the French ambassadors who had come 
to negotiate a marriage between their king, Francis I, or his son, 
the duke of Orleans, and the Princess Mary. First a grand tourna- 
ment was held, and three hundred lances broken; then came a course 
of songs and dances. About midnight, the king, the ambassadors, 
and six others withdrew, disguised themselves as Venetian noblemen, 
returned, and took out ladies to dance, the king having Anne Boleyn 
for his partner. As Holinshed says nothing about this matter, the 
Poet probably derived it from Hall or Cavendish, who give detailed 
accounts of it. The latter thuc describes the impression made by 
the queen and, her ladies: "They seemed to all men to be rather 
celestial angels descended from heaven than flesh and bone. Surely, 
to me, simple soul, it was inestimable." — H. N. H. 
42 



KING HENRY VIII Act l. Sc. iv. 

JVol. Pray, tell 'em thus much from me : 

There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, 
More worthy this place than myself; to whom, 
If I but knew him, with my love and duty 80 
I would surrender it. 

Cham. I will, my lord. 

[Whispers the Masquers. 

Wol. What say they? 

Cham. Such a one, they all confess, 

There is indeed; which they would have your 

grace 
Find out, and he will take it. 
Wol. Let me see then. 

By all your good leaves, gentlemen ; here I '11 

make 
My royal choice. 
King. {Unmashingl Ye have found him, car- 
dinal : 
You hold a fair assembly ; you do well, lord : 
You are a churchman, or, I '11 tell you, cardinal, 
I should judge now unhappily. 
Wol. I am glad 

Your grace is grown so pleasant. 
King. My lord chamberlain, 90 

Prithee, come hither : what fair lady 's that ? 
Cham. An 't please your grace. Sir Thomas Bul- 
len's daughter. 
The Viscount Rochford, one of her highness' 
women. 

79. "this place"; i. e. the seat of honor. — C. H. H. 



43 



Act I. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

King. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, 

I were unmannerly, to take you out. 

And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen ! 

Let it go round. 
JVol. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready 

I' the privy chamber? 
Lov. Yes, my lord. 

Wol. Your grace, 

I fear, with dancing is a little heated. 100 

King. I fear, too much. 
Wol. There 's fresher air, my lord, 

In the next chamber. 
King. Lead in your ladies, every one. Sweet part- 
ner, 

I must not yet forsake you. Let 's be merry, 

96. "And not to kiss you"; a kiss was anciently the established fee 
of a lady's partner. Thus in A Dialogue between Custom and Veri- 
tie, concerning the Use and Abuse of Dauncing and Minstrelsie : 

"But some reply, what foole would daunce, 
If that when daunce is doon 
He may not have at ladyes lips 

That which in daunce he woon." — H. N. H. 

102* "in the next chamber"; according to Cavendish, the king, on 
discovering himself, being desired by Wolsey to take his place under 
the state or seat of honor, said "that he would go first and shift 
his apparel, and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bed- 
chamber, where a great fire was made and prepared for him, and 
there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in 
the time of the king's absence the dishes of the banquet were cleane 
taken up, and the tables spread with new and sweet perfumed cloths. 
— Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, command- 
ing no man to remove, but set still as they did before. Then in 
came a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest 
through the tables, wherein, I suppose were served two hundred 
dishes or above. Thus passed they forth the whole night with ban- 
quetting."— H. N. H. 

^4 



KING HENRY VIII Act I. Sc. iv. 

Good mj^ lord cardinal: I have half a dozen 

healths 
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure 
To lead 'em once again ; and then let 's dream 
Who 's best in favor. Let the music knock it. 
[Eoceunt with trumpets. 



45 



Act II. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 



ACT SECOND 

Scene I 

Westminster. A street. 

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting. 

First Gent. Whither away so fast? 

Sec. Gent. O, God save ye ! 

Even to the hall, to hear what shall become 

Of the great Duke of Buckingham. 
First Gent. I '11 save you 

That labor, sir. All 's now done, but the cere- 
mony 

Of bringing back the prisoner. 
Sec. Gent. Were you there? 

First Gent. Yes, indeed was I. 
Sec. Gent. Pray, speak what has happen'd. 

First Gent. You may guess quickly what. 
Sec, Gent. Is he found guilty? 

First. Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd 

upon 't. 
Sec. Gent. I am sorry for 't. 

First Gent. So are a number more. 

Sec. Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it? 10 

First Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great 
duke 

Came to the bar ; where to his accusations 

46 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. i. 

He pleaded still not guilty, and alleged 

Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. 

The king's attorney on the contrary 

Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions 

Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired 

To have brought viva voce to his face : 

At which appear'd against him his surveyor; 

Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, 

Confessor to him; with that devil monk, 21 

Hopkins, that made this mischief. 

Sec. Gent. That was he 

That fed him with his prophecies? 

First Gent. The same. 

All these accused him strongly ; which he fain 
Would have flung from him, but indeed he 

could not: 
And so his peers upon this evidence 
Have found him guilty of high treason. Much 
He spoke, and learnedly, for life, but all 
Was either pitied in him or forgotten. 

Sec. Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself? 

First Gent. When he was brought again to the bar, 
to hear 31 

His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd 
With such an agony, he sweat extremely. 
And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty: 
But he fell to himself again and sweetly 
In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. 

Sec. Gent. I do not think he fears death. 

First Gent. Sure, he does not; 

29. "was either pitied in him or forgotten"; i. e. "either produced 
no effect, or only ineffectual pity" (Malone). — I. G. 

47 



Act IL Sc. i. THE LIFE OE 

He never was so womanish ; the cause 

He may a Httle grieve at. 
Sec. Gent. Certainly 

The cardinal is the end of this. 
First Gent. 'Tis likely, 40 

By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, 

Then deputy of Ireland ; who removed, 

Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too. 

Lest he should help his father. 
Sec. Gent. That trick of state 

Was a deep envious one. 
First Gent. At his return 

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, 

44. "Lest he should help his father"; this was in April, 1520, and 
was immediately occasioned by the duke's opposition to Wolsey's pro- 
jected meeting of Henry and Francis. Holinshed's account of it is 
so illustrative of Wolsey's character, that it may well be given: 
"The duke could not abide the cardinall, and had of late conceived an 
inward malice against him for sir William Bulmer's cause. Now 
such greevous words as the duke uttered cattie to the cardinals eare; 
whereupon he cast all waies possible to have him in a trip, that he 
might cause him to leape headlesse. But bicause he doubted his 
freends, kinnesmen, and allies, and cheeflie the earle of Surrie lord 
admerall, which had married the dukes daughter, he thought good first 
to send him some whither out of the waie. There was great enmitie 
betwixt the cardinall and the earle, for that on a time, when the 
cardinall tooke upon him to checke the earle, he had like to have 
thrust his dagger into the cardinall. At length there was occasion 
offered him to compasse his purpose, by the earle of Kildare his 
comming out of Ireland. For the cardinall, knowing he was well 
provided with monie, sought occasion to fleece him of part thereof. 
The earle, being immarried, was desirous to have an English woman 
to wife; and for that he was a suter to a widow contrarie to the 
cardinals mind, he accused him to the king, that he had not borne 
himselfe uprightlie in his office in Ireland. Such accusations were 
framed against him, that he was committed to prison, and then 
by the cardinals good preferment the earle of Surrie was sent into 
Ireland as the kings deputie, there to remaine rather as an exile than 
as lieutenant, as he himself well perceived."---H. N. H. 

45. "envious"; malicious. — C. H. H. 

48 



KING HENRY VIII Act il. Sc. i. 

And generally, whoever the king favors, 
The cardinal instantly will find employment, 
And far enough from court too. 

Sec. Gent. All the commons 

Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, 50 
Wish him ten fathoms deep : this duke as much 
They love and dote on ; call him bounteous Buck- 
ingham, 
The mirror of all courtesy — 

First Gent. Stay there, sir, 

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. 

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment, tip- 
staves before him, the axe "with the edge towards 
him, halberds on each side, accompanied with 
Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas Vauoo, Sir 
William Sands, and common people, S^c. 

Sec. Gent. Let 's stand close, and behold him. 

Buck. All good people. 

You that thus far have come to pity me, 
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 
I have this day received a traitor's judgment, 
And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear 

witness. 
And if I have a conscience, let it sink me, 60 
Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful ! 
The law I bear no malice for my death; 
'T has done upon the premisses but justice: 
But those that sought it I could wish more 
Christians : 

54. "Sir William Sands" ; Theobald's emendation (from Holinshed) 
of F. 1, "Sir Walter Sands"; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "Walter Sands."— I. G. 
19 E 49 



Act II. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: 
Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, 
Nor build their evils on the graves of great men ; 
For then my guiltless blood must cry against 

'em. 
For further life in this world I ne'er hope. 
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies 
More than I dare make faults. You few that 

loved me '^1 

And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, 
His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave 
Is only bitter to him, only dying, 
Go with me, like good angels, to my end, 
And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, 
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice 
And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's 

name. 
Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, 

If ever any malice in your heart 80 

Were hid against me, now to forgive me 

frankly. 
Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you 
As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; 
There cannot be those numberless offenses 
'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: no 

black envy 
Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his 

grace, 
And if he speak of Buckingham, pray tell him 

74. "only"; alone. — C. H. H. 

76. "the long divorce of steel"; the body-and-soul-divorcing axe. 
("Divorce" is, as often, concrete = instrument of divorce.) — C. H. H. 
86. "mark"; Warburton's emendation of Ff., "make" — I. G. 
50 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. i. 

You met him half in heaven: my vows and 

prayers 
Yet are the king's, and, till my soul forsake. 
Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live 90 
Longer than I have time to tell his years! 
Ever beloved and loving may his rule be ! 
And when old time shall lead him to his end, 
Goodness and he fill up one monument ! 
Lov, To the water side I must conduct your grace ; 
Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, 
Who undertakes you to your end. 
Vaux. Prepare there ; 

The duke is coming: see the barge be ready. 
And fit it with such furniture as suits 
The greatness of his person. 
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas, 100 

Let it alone ; my state now will but mock me. 
When I came hither, I was lord high constable 
And Duke of Buckingham ; now, poor Edward 

Bohun : 
Yet I am richer than my base accusers, 
That never knew what truth meant : I now seal 

it; 
And with that blood will make 'em one day 

groan for 't. 
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, 

99. "furniture"; equipment. Holinshed speaks of "cushions and 
carpet" on which Lovell desired the duke to sit down." — C. H. H. 

103, "noiu poor Edward Bohun"; the name of the duke of Buck- 
ingham most generally known was Stafford; it is said that he affected 
the surname of Bohun, because he was lord high constable of Eng- 
land by inheritance of tenure from the Bohuns. — H. N. H. 

105. "I now seal it," i. e. my truth, — with blood. — I. G. 

51 



Act II. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Who first raised head against usurping Richard, 
Flying for succor to his servant Banister, 
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, 
And without trial fell; God's peace be with 

him! Ill 

Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying 
My father's loss, like a most royal prince. 
Restored me to my honors, and out of ruins 
Made my name once more noble. Now his son, 
Henry the Eighth, life, honor, name and all 
That made me happy, at one stroke has taken 
For ever from the world. I had my trial. 
And must needs say, a noble one; which makes 

me 
A little happier than my wretched father : 120 
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes : both 
Fell by our servants, by those men we loved 

most ; 
A most unnatural and faithless service ! 
Heaven has an end in all : yet, jou that hear me. 
This from a dying man receive as certain : 
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels 
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make 

friends 
And give your hearts to, when they once per- 
ceive 
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away 
Like water from ye, never found again 130 
But where they mean to sink ye. All good 

people. 
Pray for me ! I must now forsake ye : the last 

hour 

52 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. i. 

Of my long weary life is come upon me. 

Farewell : 

And when you would say something that is sad. 

Speak how I fell. I have done ; and God for- 
give me! [Eoceunt Duke and Train. 
First Gent. O, this is full ol pityi Sir, it calls, 

I fear, too many curses on their heads 

That were the authors. 
Sec. Gent. If the duke be guiltless, 

'Tis full of woe : yet I can give you inkling 

Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, 141 

Greater than this. 
First. Gent. Good angels keep it from us ! 

What may it be ? You do not doubt my faith, 
sir? 
Sec. Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require 

A strong faith to conceal it. 
First Gent. Let me have it ; 

I do not talk much. 
Sec. Gent, I am confident ; 

136. "Exeunt Duke"; Buckingham was executed May 17, 15;21. 
The duke of Norfolk presided at his trial, and passed sentence upon 
him. After relating which, Holinshed adds the following: "The 
duke of Buckingham said, — 'My lord of Norffolke, you have said as 
a traitor should be said unto, but I was never anie. But, my lords, 
I nothing maligne you for that yau have doone to me; but the eternall 
God forgive you my death, as I doo ! I shall never sue to the king 
for life; howbeit, he is a gracious prince, and more grace may come 
from him than I desire. I desire you, my lords, and all my fellowes 
to pray for me.' Then was the edge of the axe turned towards him, 
and he led into a barge. Sir Thomas Lovell desired him to sit on the 
cushions and carpets ordeined for him. He said, — 'Nay; for when 
I went to Westminster I was duke of Buckinghm^; now I am but 
Edward Bohune, the most caitife of the world.' Thus tl T^^ landed 
at the Temple, and led him through the citie, who desired evc- h-? 
people to pray for him, of whom some wept and lamented." — H. N. H, 

143. "faith"; good faith, secrecy.— C. H. H. 
53 



Act 11. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

You shall, sir ; did you not of late days hear 
A buzzing of a separation 
Between the king and Katharine? 

First Gent. Yes, but it held not: 

For when the king once heard it, out of 
anger 150 

He sent command to the lord mayor straight 
To stop the rumor and allay those tongues 
That durst disperse it. 

Sec. Gent. But that slander, sir, 

Is found a truth now: for it grows again 
Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain 
The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal. 
Or some about him near, have, out of malice 
To the good queen, possess' d him with a scruple 
That will undo her : to confirm this too, 
Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately ; 160 
As all think, for this business. 

First Gent. 'Tis the cardinal; 

And merely to revenge him on the emperor 
For not bestowing on him at his asking 
The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. 

Sec. Gent. I think you have hit the mark : but is 't 
not cruel 
That she should feel the smart of this? The 

cardinal 
Will have his will, and she must fall. 

First. Gent. 'Tis woeful. 

We are too open here to argue this; 
Let 's think in private more. [Exeunt, 

168, "argue"; discuss. — C. H. H. 



54 



KING HEKEY VIII Act. ii. Sc. ii. 



Scene II 

An ante-chamber in the palace. 

Enter the Lord Chamberlain, reading a letter. 

Cham. 'My lord, the horses your lordship sent 
for, with all the care I had, I saw well 
chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were 
young and handsome, and of the best breed 
in the north. When they were ready to set 
out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, 
by commission and main power, took 'em 
from me ; with this reason : His master would 
be served before a subject, if not before the 
king; which stopped our mouths, sir.' 10 

I fear he will indeed : well, let him have them : 
He will have all, I think. 

Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes of Nor- 
folk and Suffolk. 

Nor. Well met, my lord chamberlain. 

6. "by commission and main power"; in virtue of a warrant and 
by means of main force. — C. H. H. 

12. ["Enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Siifolk"] ; Charles Brandon, 
the present duke of Suffolk, was son of Sir William Brandon, slain 
by Richard at the battle of Bosv/orth. He was created diike of 
Suffolk in February, 1514, and in March, 1515, was married to Mary, 
youngest sister of the king, and widow of Louis the Twelfth of 
France. He had been her lover before her first marriage; and when 
'the king would have contracted her a second time to a foreign 
prince, she told him plainty that she had married once to please him, 
and would do it now to please herself, or else take religious vows 
in a convent. Suffolk was reckoned among the most able and accom- 
plished noblemen of his time, both in the cabinet and the field.— 
H. N. H. 

55 



Act II. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Cham. Good day to both your graces. 

Suf. How is the king employ 'd? 

Cham. I left him private. 

Full of sad thoughts and troubles. 
Nor. What 's the cause ? 

Cham. It seems the marriage with his brother's 
wife 
Has crept too near his conscience. 
Suf. No, his conscience 

Has crept too near another lady. 
Nor. 'Tisso: 

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: 
That blind priest, like the eldest son of for- 
tune, 21 
Turns what he list. The king will know him 
one day. 
Suf. Pray God he do ! he '11 never know himself 

else. 
Nor. How holily he works in all his business ! 

And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd 

the league 
Between us and the emperor, the queen's great 

nephew. 
He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters 
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience. 
Fears and despairs; and all these for his mar- 
riage : 
And out of all these to restore the king, 30 
He counsels a divorce ; a loss of her 
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 

21. "That blind priest," etc.; Wolsey is Fortune's favorite, and like 
Fortune herself disposes blindly of human affairs. — C. H. H. 
56 



KING HENRY VIII Act. Ii. Sc. ii. 

About his neck, yet never lost her luster, 
Of her that loves him with that excellence 
That angels love good men with, even of her 
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, 
Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? 

Cham. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis 
most true 
These news are every where; every tongue 

speaks 'em. 
And every true heart weeps for 't : all that dare 
Look into these affairs see this main end, 41 
The French king's sister. Heaven will one day 

open 
The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon 
This bold bad man. 

Suf. And free us from his slavery. 

Nor. We had need pray, 

And heartily, for our deliverance ; 
Or this imperious man will work us all 
From princes into pages: all men's honors 
Lie like one lump before him, to be f ashion'd 
Into what pitch he please. 

Suf. For me, my lords, 50 

I love him not, nor fear him ; there 's my creed : 
As I am made without him, so I '11 stand, 
If the king please; his curses and his blessings 
Touch me alike ; they 're breath I not believe in. 
I knew him, and I know him ; so I leave him 
To him that made him proud, the pope. 

41. It was the main "end" or object of Wolsey to bring about a 
marriage between Henry and the French king's sister, the duchess of 
Alen?on.— H. N. H. 

57 



Act II. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Nor, Let 's in ; 

And with some other business put the king 
From these sad thoughts that work too much 

upon him: 
My lord, you '11 bear us company? 

Cham. Excuse me; 

The king has sent me otherwhere : besides, 60 
You '11 find a most unfit time to disturb him : 
Health to your lordships. 

Nor. Thanks, my good lord chamberlain, 

l^EiVit Lord Chamberlain; and the King draws 
the curtain and sits reading pensively. 

Suf. How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. 
King. Who's there, ha? 

Nor. Praj^ God he be not angry. 

King. Who 's there, I say? How dare you thrust 
yourselves 

Into my private meditations ? 

Who am I? ha? 
Nor. A gracious king that pardons all offenses 

Malice ne'er meant : our breach of duty this way 

Is business of estate, in which we come 70 

To know your royal pleasure. 
King. Ye are too bold : 

62. ["Exit Lord, Chamberlain"] ; the stage direction in the old copy 
is singular — "Exit Lord Chamberlain, and the King draws the curtain 
and sits reading pensively." — This was calculated for the state of the 
theater in Shakespeare's time. When a person was to be discovered 
in a diflferent apartment from that in which the original speakers in 
the scene are exhibited, the artless mode of that time was, to place 
such person in the back part of the stage, behind the curtains which 
were occasionally suspended across it. These the person who was 
to be discovered drew back just at the proper time.— H. N. H. 

58 



KING HENRY VIII Act. il. Sc. iL 

Go to ; I '11 make ye know your times of busi- 
ness : 
Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? 

Enter Wolsey and Campeius, with a commission. 

Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my 
Wolsey, 

The quiet of my wounded conscience, 

Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To Camp.~\ 
You 're welcome. 

Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom : 

Use us and it. [To Wols.~\ My good lord, 
have great care 

I be not found a talker. 
Wol. Sir, you cannot. 

I would your grace would give us but an hour 

Of private conference. 80 

King. [To Noj\ and Suf.~\ We are busy; go. 

Nor. [Aside to Suf.~\ This priest has no pride in 

him? 
Suf. [Aside to Nor.^ Not, to speak of: 

I would not be so sick though for his place : 

But this cannot continue. 
Nor. [Aside to Suf.] If it do, 

I '11 venture one have-at-him. 
Suf. [Aside to Nor.] I another. 

[Exeunt Norfolk a7id Suffolk. 
Wol. Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom 

Above all princes, in committing freely 

Your scruple to the voice of Christendom : 

85. "one have-at-him"; F. 1, "one; halie at him"; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "one 
heave at him"; Knight, "one; — have at him." — I. G. 
59 



Act 11. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? 
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favor to her, 
Must now confess, if they have any goodness, 
The trial just and noble. All the clerks, 92 
I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms 
Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of 

judgment, 
Invited by your noble self, hath sent 
One general tongue unto us, this good man, 
This just and learned priest, Cardinal Cam- 

peius ; 
Whom once more I present unto your highness. 
King. And once more in mine arms I bid him wel- 
come. 
And thank the holy conclave for their loves : 100 
They have sent nie such a man I would have 
wish'd for. 
Cam. Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' 
loves, 
You are so noble. To your highness' hand 
I tender my commission ; by whose virtue. 
The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord 
Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their serv- 
ant 
In the unpartial judging of this business. 
King. Two equal men. The queen shall be ac- 
quainted 
Forthwith for what you come. Where 's 
Gardiner ? 
Wol. I know your majesty has always loved her HO 

94. "Have their free voices," i. e. "have liberty to express their 
opinions freely"; (Grant White, "OaM" for "Have"). — I. G. 
60 



XING HENRY VIII Act. Ii. Sc. ii. 

So dear in heart, not to deny her that 
A woman of less place might ask by law, 
Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. 
King. Aye, and the best she shall have; and my 
favor 
To him that does best : God forbid else. Cardi- 
nal, 
Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary : 
I find him a fit fellow. [Exit Wolsey. 

Re-enter Wolsey, with Gardiner. 

Wol. [Aside to Gard.'] Give me your hand: much 
joy and favor to you: 
You are the king's now. 
Gard. [Aside to Wol.l But to be commanded 
For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised 
me. 120 

King. Come hither, Gardiner. 

[Walks and whispers. 
Cam. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace 

In this man's place before him? 
Wol. Yes, he was. 

Cam. Was he not held a learned man? 
WoL Yes, surely. 

Cam. Believe me, there 's an ill opinion spread 
then. 
Even of yourself, lord cardinal. 
Wol. How ! of me : 

Cam. They will not stick to say you envied him, 
And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous. 
Kept him a foreign man still ; which so grieved 
him 

61 



Act II. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

That he ran mad and died. 
JVol. Heaven's peace be with him ! 130 

That 's Christian care enough : for hving mur- 
murers 

There 's places of rebuke. He was a fool ; 

For he would needs be virtuous : that good fel- 
low, 

If I command him, follows my appointment : 

I will have none so near else. Learn this, 
brother, 

We live not to be griped by meaner persons. 
King. Deliver this with modesty to the queen. 

[Eojit Gardiner. 

The most convenient place that I can think of 

For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars ; 

There ye shall meet about this weighty busi- 
ness. 140 

My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord. 

Would it not grieve an able man to leave 

So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, con- 
science ! 

O, 'tis a tender place ; and I must leave her. 

lEa^eunt. 

130. "ran mad and died"; "Aboute this time the king received into 
favour Doctor Stephen Gardiner, whose service he used in matters of 
great secrecie and weight, admitting him in the room of Doctor 
Pace, the which being continually abrode in ambassades, and the same 
oftentymes not much necessarie, by the Cardinalles appointment, at 
length he toke such greefe therewith, that he fell out of his right 
wittes" (Holinshed).— H. N. H. 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. m. 

Scene III 

An ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments. 
Enter Anne Bullen and an old Lady. 

Anne. Not for that neither: here 's the pang that 
pinches : 
His highness having Uved so long with her, and 

she 
So good a lady that no tongue could ever 
Pronounce dishonor of her — by my life, 
She never knew harm-doing — O, now, after 
So many courses of the sun enthroned, 
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which 
To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than 
'Tis sweet at first to acquire — after this process. 
To give her the avaunt ! it is a pity 10 

Would move a monster. 

Old L. Hearts of most hard temper 

Melt and lament for her. 

Anne. O, God's will! much better 

She ne'er had known pomp : though 't be tem- 
poral. 
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce 
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging 
As soul and body's severing. 

Old L. Alas, poor lady ! 

She 's a stranger now again. 

14. "that quarrel, fortune, do"; F, 1 reads "that quarrell. Fortune, 
do"; Collier MS., "that cruel fortune do"; Keightley, "that quarrel, 
by fortune, do"; Lettsom conj. "that fortunes quarrel do"; Hanmer, 
"that quarr'ler, fortune do," etc.^I. G. 

17, "stranger"; alien. — C, H. H. 
63 



Act II. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Anne. So much the more 

Must pity drop upon her. Verily, 
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, 
And range with humble livers in content, 20 
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief 
And wear a golden sorrow. 

Old L. Our content 

Is our best having. 

Anne. By my troth and maidenhead, 

I would not be a queen. 

Old L. Beshrew me, I would, 

And venture maidenhead for 't; and so would 

you. 
For all this spice of your hypocrisy: 
You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, 
Have too a woman's heart ; which ever yet 
AiFected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; 
Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which 
gifts— 30 

Saving your mincing — ^the capacity 
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, 
If you might please to stretch it. 

Anne. Nay, good troth. 

Old L. Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a 
queen? 

Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. 

Old L. ^Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would 
hire me. 
Old as I am, to queen it : but, I pray you. 
What think you of a duchess ? have you limbs 
To bear that load of title ? 

Anne. No, in truth. 

64 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. m. 

Old L. Then you are weakly made: pluck off a 
little; 40 

I would not be a young count in your way, 
For more than blushing comes to : if your back 
Cannot vouchsafe this burthen, 'tis too weak 
Ever to get a boy. 

Anne. How you do talk! 

I swear again, I would not be a queen 
For all the world. 

Old L. In faith, for little England 

You 'Id venture an emballing : I myself 
Would for Carnarvonshire, although there 

'long'd 
No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes 
here ? 

Enter the Lord Chamberlain. 

Cham. Good morrow, ladies. What were 't worth 
to know 50 

The secret of your conference? 
Anne. My good lord, 

Not your demand ; it values not your asking : 

Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. 
Cham. It was a gentle business, and becoming 

The action of good women : there is hope 

All will be well. 

46. "little England"; Steevens pointed out that Pembrokeshire was 
known as "little England"; and as Anne BuUen was about to be 
made Marchioness of Pembroke, there may be a special point in the 
phrase. — I. G. 

48. "Carnarvonshire"; as a mountainous and barren country of lit- 
tle value (an antithesis to the fertilizing "mud in Egypt" below, v. 
92, as well as, probably, to the cultivated "little England" above).— 
C. H. H. 

XXIV-5 65 



Act II. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Anne. Now, I pray God, amen! 

Cham. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly bless- 
ings 
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair 

lady. 
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note 's 
Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty 
Commends his good opinion of you, and 61 
Does purpose honor to you no less flowing 
Than Marchioness of Pembroke; to which title 
A thousand pound a year, annual support. 
Out of his grace he adds. 
Anne. I do not know 

What kind of my obedience I should tender; 
More than my all is nothing : nor my prayers 
Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes 
More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers 

and wishes 
Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship. 
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedi- 
ence, 71 
As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness. 
Whose health and royalty I pray for. 
Cham. Lady, 
I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit 
The king hath of you. [Aside} I have perused 

her well ; 
Beauty and honor in her are so mingled 
That they have caught the king : and who knows 

yet 
But from this lady may proceed a gem 

78. "may proceed a gem"; the carbuncle was supposed by our an- 

66 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. iii. 

To lighten all this isle? — 1 11 to the king, 
And say I spoke with you. 
Ann^, My honor'd lord. 80 

[Emt Lord Chamberlain. 

Old L. Why, this it is ; see, see ! 

I have been begging sixteen years in court. 

Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could 

Come pat betwixt too early and too late 

For any suit of pounds ; and you, O fate ! 

A very fresh fish here — fie, fie, fie upon 

This compell'd fortune ! — have your mouth fiU'd 

up 
Before you open it. 

Anne. This is strange to me. 

Old L. How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. 
There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, 90 

That would not be a queen, that would she not, 
For all the mud in Egypt : have you heard it? 

Anne. Come, you are pleasant. 

Old L. With your theme, I could 

O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pem- 
broke ! 
A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! 
No other obligation ! By my life, 

cestors to have intrinsic light, and to shine in the dark: any other gem 
may reflect light, but cannot give it. Thus in a Palace described in 
Amadis de Gaule, 1619: "In the roofe of a chamber hung two lampes 
of gold, at the bottomes whereof were enchafed two carbuncles, 
which gave so bright a splendour round about the roome, that there 
was no neede of any other light." — H. N. H, 

84. "Come pat betwixt too early and too late for any suit"; hit th 
right moment for presenting any petition. — C. H. H. 

92. "the mud in Egypt," i. e. "the land fertilized by the Nile's 
overflow." — I. G. 

67 



Act 11. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

That promises mo thousands: honor's train 
Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time 
I know your back will bear a duchess : say, 
Are' you not stronger than you were 

Anne. Good lady, 100 

Make yourself mirth with your particular 

fancy, 
And leave me out on 't. Would I had no being, 
If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me. 
To think what follows. 

The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful 
In our long absence : pray, do not deliver 
What here you 've heard to her. 

Old L. What do you think me? 

lEa^eunt. 

Scene IV 

"A hall in Black-Friars. 

Trumpets, sennet and cornets. Enter two Verg- 
ers, with short silver wands; next them, two 
Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, the 
Archbishop of Canterbury alone; after him, 
the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and 
Saint Asaph; next them, with some small dis- 

["Canterbnry"] ; at this time, June 21, 1529, the archbishop of 
Canterbury was William Warham, who died in August, 1532, and 
was succeeded by Cranmer the following March. — The whole of this 
long stage-direction is taken verbatim from the original copy, and in 
most of its particulars was according to the actual event. — The "two 
priests bearing each a silver cross," and the "two gentlemen bearing 
two great silver pillars," were parts of Wolsey's official pomp and 
circumstance; the one being symbolic of his office as archbishop of 
York, the other of his authority as cardinal legate. — H. N. H. 
68 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. iv. 

tance^ follows a Gentleman bearing the purse^ 
with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then 
two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a 
Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied 
with a Sergeant at arms bearing a silver mace; 
then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver 
pillars; after them, side by side, the two Cardi- 
nals; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. 
The King takes place under the cloth of state; 
the two Cardinals sit under him as judges. 
The Queen takes place some distance from the 
King. The Bishops place themselves on each 
side the court, in manner of a consistory; be- 
low them, the Scribes. The Lords sit neoot the 
Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in 
convenient order about the stage. 

Wol. Whilst our commission from Rome is read, . 

Let silence be commanded. 
King. What 's the need? 

It hath already publicly been read, 

And on all sides the authority allow'd; 

You may then spare that time. 
Wol. Be 't so. Proceed. 

Scribe. Say, Henry King of England, come into 

the court. 
Crier. Henry King of England, &c. 
King. Here. 

Scribe. Say, Katharine Queen of England, come 
into the court. 11 

Crier. Katharine Queen of England, &c. 

[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her 
Q9 



Act 11. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

chair^ goes about the courts comes to the 
King, and kneels at his feet; then speaks. 

Q. Kath. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice, 
And to bestow your pity on me ; for 
I am a most poor woman, and a stranger. 
Born out of your dominions; having here 
No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance 
Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, 
In what have I offended you? what cause 
Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, 20 
That thus you should proceed to put me off. 
And take your good grace from me? Heaven 

witness, 
I have been to you a true and humble wife. 
At all times to your will conformable. 
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, 
Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry 
As I saw it inclined : when was the hour 
I ever contradicted your desire. 
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your 

friends 
Have I not strove to love, although I knew 30 
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine 
That had to him derived your anger, did I 
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice 
He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to 

mind 
That I have been your wife, in this obedience. 
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest 

["The Queen," etc.] ; "Because she could come directly to the 
king for the distance which severed them, she took pain to go about 
unto the king, kneeling down at his feet" (Cavendish). — H. N. II. 
70 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. iv. 

With many children by you : if in the course 
And process of this time you can report, 
And prove it too, against mine honor aught. 
My bond to wedlock or my love and duty, 40 
Against your sacred person, in God's name. 
Turn me away, and let the foul'st contempt 
Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
To the sharp 'st kind of justice. Please you, sir. 
The king, your father, was reputed for 
A prince most prudent, of an excellent 
And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, 
My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one 
The wisest prince that there had reign'd by 

many 
A year before : it is not to be question'd 50 

That they had gather'd a wise council to them 
Of every realm, that did debate this business, 
'Who deem'd our marriage lawful : wherefore I 

humbly 
Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may 
Be by my friends in Spain advised, whose coun- 
sel 
I will implore : if not, i' the name of God, 
Your pleasure be fulfill'd! 
Wol. , You have here, lady. 

And of your choice, these reverend fathers ; men 
Of singular integrity and learning. 
Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled 60 

41. "Aught" is understood before "Against j^our sacred person." — 
H. N. H. 

48. "one the wisest"; one of the wisest (an obsolescent partitive 
construction). Holinshed has the more current form, "one of the 
wittiest princes." — C. H. H. 

71 



Act II. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

To plead your cause : it shall be therefore boot- 
less 

That longer you desire the court, as well 

For your own quiet, as to rectify 

What is unsettled in the king. 
Cam. His grace 

Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, 

It 's fit this royal session do proceed, 

And that without delay their arguments 

Be now produced and heard. 
Q. Kath. Lord cardinal. 

To you I speak. 
Wol. Your pleasure, madam? 

Q. Kath. Sir, 

63. "That longer you desire the court," i. e. desire the court to 
delay its proceedings; F. 4, "defer"; Keightley conj. "court delay' d"; 
— I.G. 

69. "To you I speak"; the acting of Mrs. Siddons has been much 
celebrated as yielding an apt and pregnant commentary on this pas- 
sage. The effect, it would seem, must have been fine; but perhaps the 
thing savors overmuch of forcing the Poet to express another's 
thoughts. It is thus described by Mr. Terry: "Vexed to the uttei'- 
most by the artifices with which her ruin is prosecuted, and touched 
Avith indignation at the meanness and injustice of the proceeding, 
she interrupts Campeius, with the intention of accusing Wolsey, and 
of refusing him for her judge. Campeius, who had been urging 
immediate trial, imagines it addressed to him, and comes forward 
as if to answer. Here Mrs. Siddons exhibited one of those un- 
equalled pieces of acting, by which she assists the barrenness of 
the text, and fills up the meaning of the scene. Those who have 
seen it will never forget it; but to those who have not, we feel it 
impossible to describe the majestic self-correction of the petulance 
and vexation which, in her perturbed state of mind, she feels at 
the misapprehension of Campeius, and the intelligent expression 
of countenance and gracious dignity of gesture, Avith which she in- 
timates to him his mistake. And no language can convey a picture 
of her immediate reassumption of the fulness of majesty, when she 
turns round to Wolsey, and exclaims, — 'To you I speak!' Her form 
§eemed to expand, and her eyes to burn beyond human." — H. N. H. 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. iv. 

I am about to weep ; but, thinking that 70 

We are a queen, or long have dream' d so, cer- 
tain 
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears 
I '11 turn to sparks of fire. 
Wol. Be patient yet. 

Q. KatJi. I will, when you are humble ; nay, before, 
Or God will punish me. I do believe. 
Induced by potent circumstances, that 
You are mine enemy, and make my challenge 
You shall not be my judge : for it is you 
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me ; 
Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say 
again, 80 

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 
Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once 

more, 
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 
At all a friend to truth. 
JVol. I do profess 

You speak not like yourself; who ever yet 
Have stood to charity and display'd the effects 
Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom 
O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do 

me wrong : 
I have no spleen against you, nor injustice 
For you or any : how far I have proceeded, 90 
Or how far further shall, is warranted 
By a commission from the consistory. 
Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You 

charge me 
That I have blown this coal : I do deny it : 
73 



Act 11. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

The king is present : if it be known to him 
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, 
And worthily, my falsehood ! yea, as much 
As you have done my truth. If he know 
That I am free of your report, he knows 
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him 100 
It lies to cure me ; and the cure is to 
Remove these thoughts from you : the which be- 
fore 
His highness shall speak in, if I do beseech 
You, gracious madam, to unthink your speak- 
ing, 
And to say so no more. 
Q. Kath. My lord, my lord, 

I am a simple woman, much too weak 
To oppose your cunning. You 're meek and 

humble-mouth'd ; 
You sign your place and calling, in full seem- 
ing, 
With meekness and humility ; but your heart 109 
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. 
You have, by fortune and his highness' favors. 
Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are 

mounted 
Where powers are your retainers, and your 

words, 
Domestics to you, serve your will as 't please 
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell 
You tender more your person's honor than 

104. "unthink your speaking"; cancel in thought what you have 
said.— C. H. H. 



74 



KING HENRY VIII Act ii. Sc. iv. 

Your high profession spiritual; that again 

I do refuse you for my judge, and here. 

Before you all, appeal unto the pope, 

To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, 120 

And to be judged by him. 

[She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart. 

Cam. The queen is obstinate, 

Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and 
Disdainful to be tried by 't: 'tis not well. 
She 's going away. 

King. Call her again. 

Crier. Katharine Queen of England, come into the 
court. 

Gent. Ush. Madam, you are call'd back. 

Q. Kath. What need you note it? pray you, keep 
your way : 
When you are call'd, return. Now the Lord 

help! 
They vex me past my patience. Pray you, pass 
on: 130 

I will not tarry, no, nor ever more 
Upon this business my appearance make 
In any of their courts. 

[Exeunt Queen, and her attendants. 

King. Go thy ways, Kate : 

That man i' the world who shall report he has 
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, 
For speaking false in that: thou art, alone. 
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness. 
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government. 
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts 139 
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, 
75 



Act II. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

The queen of earthly queens. She 's noble 

born. 
And like her true nobility she has 
Carried herself towards me. 

Wol. Most gracious sir. 

In humblest manner I require your highness, 
That it shall please you to declare in hearing 
Of all these ears — for where I am robb'd and 

bound. 
There must I be unloosed, although not there 
At once and fully satisfied — whether ever I 
Did broach this business to your highness, or 
Laid any scruple in your way which might 150 
Induce you to the question on 't ? or ever 
Have to you, but with thanks to God for such 
A royal lady, spake one the least word that 

might 
Be to the prejudice of her present state 
Or touch of her good person? 

King. My lord cardinal, 

I do excuse you ; yea, upon mine honor, 
I free you from 't. You are not to be taught 
That you have many enemies that know not 
Why they are so, but, like to village curs, 
Bark when their fellows do: by some of these 
The queen is put in anger. You 're excused: 161 
But will you be more justified? you ever 
Have wish'd the sleeping of this business, never 

desired 
It to be stirr'd, but oft have hinder'd, oft, 
The passages made toward it : on my honor, 



14)4. "require"; entreat.— C. H. H. 

76 



*i 



KING HENRY VIII Act li. Sc. iv. 

I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, 
And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me 

to 't, 
I will be bold with time and your attention : 
Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; 

give heed to 't : 
My conscience first received a tenderness, 170 
Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd 
By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French am- 
bassador; 
Who had been hither sent on the debating 
A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and 
Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this busi- 
ness, 
Ere a determinate resolution, he, 
I mean the bishop, did require a respite. 
Wherein he might the king his lord advertise 
Whether our daughter were legitimate, 179 

Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, 
Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite 

shook 
The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, 
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to trem- 
ble 

166. "'/ speak my good lord cardinal"; the king, having flrst ad- 
dressed Wolsey, breaks off; and declares upon his honor to the 
whole court, that he speaks the cardinal's sentiments upon the point 
in question. — H. N. H. 

172. "The Bishop of Bayonne"; strictlj^ it should be "the Bishop 
of Tarbes," but the mistake was Holinshed's. — I. G. 

174. "The Duke of Orleans," was the second son of Francis I, 
King of France. — I. G. 

182. "the bosom of my conscience" ; Holinshed's use of "secret 
bottom of my conscience" justified Theobald's emendation of "bosom" 
to "bottom." — I. G. 

77 



Act II. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

The region of my breast; which forced such 

way 
That many mazed considerings did throng 
And press'd in with this caution. First, me- 

thought 
I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had 
Commanded nature that my lady's womb. 
If it conceived a male-child by me, should 
Do no more offices of life to 't than 190 

The grave does to the dead; for her male issue 
Or died where they were made, or shortly after 
This world had air'd them: hence I took a 

thought, 
This was a judgment on me, that my kingdom, 
Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should 

not 
Be gladded in 't by me : then follows that 
I weigh' d the danger which my realms stood in 
By this my issue's fail ; and that gave to me 
Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in 
The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer 200 
Toward this remedy whereupon we are 
Now present here together ; that 's to say, 
I meant to rectify my conscience, which 
I then did feel full sick and yet not well, 
By all the reverend fathers of the land 
And doctors learn'd. First I began in private 
With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember 
How under my oppression I did reek, 

199. "throe"; Pope's emendation of Ff., "throw."— I. G. 

204. "yet not," i. e. not yet.— I. G. 

209. "moved you"; broached the matter to you. — C. H. H. 

78 



KING HENRY VIII Act li. Sc. iv. 

When I first moved you. 

Lin. Very well, my liege. 

King. I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to 
say 210 

How far you satisfied me. 

Lin. So please your highness. 

The question did at first so stagger me, 
Bearing a state of mighty moment in 't 
And consequence of dread, that I committed 
The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt, 
And did entreat your highness to this course 
Which you are running here. 

King. I then moved you. 

My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave 
To make this present summons : unsolicited 
I left no reverend person in this court; 220 
But by particular consent proceeded 
Under your hands and seals : therefore, go on ; 
For no dislike i' the world against the person 
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points 
Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward : 
Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life 
And kingly dignity, we are contented 
To wear our mortal state to come with her, 

213. "Bearing a state of mighty moment in't," etc.; involving mo- 
mentous issues and formidable consequences.— C. H. H. 

214. "committed the daring'st counsel which I had to doubt," etc.; 
instead of directly advising on the queen's case, Lincoln only advised 
further counsel. This is more clearly put \>y Holinshed, where the 
king says, addressing him: "for so much as then you yourself were 
in some doubt, you moved me to ask the counsel of all these my 
lords" (iii. 907).— C. H. H. 

225. "drive"; Pope's emendation of Ff., "drives." — I. G. 



79 



Act 11. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

Katharine our queen, before the primest crea- 
ture 
That 's paragon'd o' the world. 

Cam. So please your highness, 

The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness 231 
That we adjourn this court till further day : 
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion 
Made to the queen, to call back her appeal 
She intends unto his holiness. 

King. [Adde] I may perceive 

These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor 
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. 
My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, 
Prithee, return; with thy approach, I know, 
My comfort comes along.-^Break up the court : 
I say, set on. 241 

[Exeunt in manner as they entered. 

239. "Prithee, return"; the king, be it observed, is here merely 
thinking aloud. Granmer was at that time absent on a foreign em- 
^— H. N. H. 



80 



KING HENRY VIH Act III. Sc. i. 



ACT THIRD 

Scene I 

Londoji. The Queen's apartments. 

The Queen and her Women, as at work. 

Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench : my soul grows sad 
with troubles ; 
Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave 
working. 

Song. 

Orpheus with his lute made trees. 
And the mountain tops that freeze, 

Bow themselves when he did sing: 
To his music plants and flowers 
Ever sprung, as sun and showers 

There had made a lasting spring. 

Every thing that heard him play. 

Even the billows of the sea, 10 

Hung their heads, and then lay by. 
In sweet music is such art, 

8. "had made a lasting sfring"; so in all the old copies. In mod- 
ern editions generally, been has strangely crept into the place of 
made, to the great marring, well nigh to the utter spoiling, in fact, 
of both sense and poetry. Doubtless the change occurred by mistake; 
it is too bad to have come otherwise. — In the preceding line, as is 
of course used for as if, or as though. — H. N. H, 
20 E 81 



Act III. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Killing care and grief of heart 
Fall asleep, or hearing die. 

Enter a Gentleman. 

Q. Kath. How now ! 

Gent. An 't please your grace, the two great cardi- 
nals 
Wait in the presence. 
Q. Kath. Would they speak with me? 

Gent. They will'd me say so, madam. 
Q. Kath. Pray their graces 

To come near. [Eait Gent.~\ What can be 

their business 
With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from 
favor? 20 

I do not like their coming. Now I think on 't, 
They should be good men, their affairs as right- 
eous: 
But all hoods make not monks. 

Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius. 

Wol. Peace to your highness! 

Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a house- 
wife; 
I would be all, against the worst may happen. 

23. "hoods make not monks"; being churchmen they should be 
virtuous, and every business they undertake as righteous as their 
sacred office: but all hoods make not monks. In allusion to the Latin 
proverb — Cucullus non facit monacJium, to which Chaucer also al- 
ludes: 

"Hahite ne maketh monke ne frere; 
But a clene life and devotion, 
Maketh gode men of religion." — H. N. H. 



82 



laXG HENRY VIII Act in. Sc. i. 

What are your pleasures with me, reverend 
lords ? 
Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw 
Into your private chamber, we shall give you 
The full cause of our coming. 
Q. Kath. Speak it here; 

There 's nothing I have done yet, o' my con- 
science, 30 
Deserves a corner: would all other women 
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do ! 
My lords, I care not, so much I am happy 
Above a number, if my actions 
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em. 
Envy and base opinion set against 'em, 
I know my life so even. If your business 
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in. 
Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. 
Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina 40 

serenissima, — 
Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin ; 

I am not such a truant since my coming, 

As not to know the language I have lived in: 

A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, 

suspicious ; 
Pray speak in English : here are some will thank 

you, 
If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake ; 

31. "Deserves a corner"; i. e. to be told secretly. — C. H. H. 

38. "and that way I am wife in"; i. e, "concerning my conduct as 
a wife." (Rowe proposed "wise" for "loife") — I. G. 

40. "Tanta est erga te mentis integritas regina serenissima" ; "So 
great is our integrity of purpose towards thee, most serene princess," 
—I. G. 

83 



Act III. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardi- 
nal, 
The willing'st sin I ever yet committed 
May be absolved in English. 

Wol Noble lady, 50 

I am sorry my integrity should breed. 
And service to his majesty and you, 
So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. 
We come not by the way of accusation. 
To taint that honor every good tongue blesses, 
Nor to betray you any way to sorrow — 
You have too much, good lady — but to know 
How you stand minded in the weighty differ- 
ence 
Between the king and you, and to deliver. 
Like free and honest men, our just opinions 60 
And comforts to your cause. 

Cam. Most honor'd madam, 

My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, 
Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace. 
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure 
Both of his truth and him, which was too far, 
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace. 
His service and his counsel. 

Q. Kath. [Aside] To betray me. — 

My lords, I thank you both for your good wills ; 
Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove 

so! 
But how to make ye suddenly an answer, 70 
In such a point of weight, so near mine honor. 
More near my life, I fear, with my weak wit, 
And to such men of gravity and learning, 

84 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. i 

In truth, I know not. I was set at work 
Among my maids, full little, God knows, look- 
ing 
Either for such men or such business. 
For her sake that I have been — for I feel 
The last fit of my greatness — good your graces, 
Let me have time and counsel for my cause : 
Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! 80 

Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these 
fears : 
Your hopes and friends are infinite. 

Q. Kath. In England 

But little for my profit : can jou think, lords. 
That any Englishman dare give me counsel? 
Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' 

pleasure — 
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest — 
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, 
They that must weigh out my afflictions. 
They that my trust must grow to, live not here : 
They are, as all my other comforts, far hence 90 
In mine own country, lords. 

Cam. I would your grace 

Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. 

Q. Kath. How, sir? 

Cam. Put your main cause into the king's protec- 
tion ; 
He 's loving and most gracious : 'twill be much 
Both for your honor better and your cause ; 

86. "Though he (the Englishman) be grown so reckless as to be 
honest."— C. H. H. 

87. "And live a subject"; i. e. and dare to live where Henry has 
sway.— C. H. H. 

85 



Act ni. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, 

You '11 part away disgraced. 
JVol. He tells you rightly. 

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, my 
ruin: 

Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! 

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge 100 

That no king can corrupt. 
Cam. Your rage mistakes us. 

Q. Kath. The more shame for ye: holy men I 
thought ye, 

Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; 

But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye : 

Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your 
comfort ? 

The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, 

A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? 

I will not wish ye half my miseries ; 

I have more charity : but say, I warn'd ye ; 

Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at 
once 110 

The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. 
JVol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; 

You turn the good we offer into envy. 
Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing : woe upon ye. 

And all such false professors! would you have 
me — 

If you have any justice, any pity. 

If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits^ — 

Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? 

102, "The more shame ye"; i. e. if I mistake you, it is by your 
fault, not mine, for I thought you good. — H. N. H. 
86 



KING HENRY VIII Act III. Sc. i. 

Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, 
His love, too long ago ! I am old, my lords, 120 
And all the fellowship I hold now with him 
Is only my obedience. What can happen 
To me above this wretchedness? all your studies 
Make me a curse like this. 
Cam. Your fears are worse. 

Q. Kath. Have I lived thus long — let me speak 

myself, 
Since virtue finds no friends — a wife, a true 

one? 
A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, 
Never yet branded with suspicion? 
Have I with all my full affections 
Still met the king? loved him next heaven? 

obey'd him? 130 

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? 
Almost forgot my prayers to content him? 
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. 
Bring me a constant woman to her husband, 
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his 

pleasure. 
And to that woman, when she has done most. 
Yet will I add an honor, a great patience. 
Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim 

at. 
Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so 

guilty. 
To give up willingly that noble title 140 

134. "a constant woman"; a woman constant (to . . .). — C. H. H. 
137. "add an honor"; I will show a merit in addition to all hers. — 
C. H. H. 

87 



Act III. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Your master wed me to : nothing but death 

Shall e'er divorce my dignities. 
Wol. Pray, hear me. 

Q, Kath. Would I had never trod this English 
earth, 

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! 

Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your 
hearts. 

What will become of me now, wretched lady ! 

I am the most unhappy woman living. 

Alas, poor wenches, where are now your for- 
tunes ? 

Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity. 

No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me; 
■ Almost no grave allow'd me : like the lily, 151 

That once was mistress of the field and flour- 
ish'd, 

I '11 hang my head and perish. 
Wol. If your grace 

Could but be brought to know our ends are hon- 
est. 

You 'Id feel more comfort : why should we, good 
lady. 

Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, 

The way of our profession is against it : 

We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. 

For goodness' sake, consider what you do; 

How you may hurt yourself, aye, utterly 160 

145. "angels' faces"; perhaps an allusion to Gregory's "non Angli 
sed angeli" (Dyce).— C. H. H. 

159. "For goodness' sake"; in Shakespeare's time this was a solemn 
adjuration "for God's sake." — C. H. H. 

88 



KING HENRY VIII Act III. Sc. i. 

Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this car- 
riage. 
The hearts of princes kiss obedience, 
So much they love it ; but to stubborn spirits 
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. 
I know you have a gentle, noble temper, 
A soul as even as a calm : pray think us 
Those we profess, peace-makers, friends and 
servants. 
Cam. Madam, you '11 find it so. You wrong your 
virtues 
With these weak women's fears : a noble spirit, 
As yours was put into you, ever casts I'^'O 

Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king 

loves you ; 
Beware you lose it not : for us, if you please 
To trust us in your business, we are ready 
To use our utmost studies in your service. 
Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords : and pray for- 
give me. 
If I have used myself unmannerly; 
You know I am a woman, lacking wit 
To make a seemly answer to such persons. 
Pray do my service to his majesty : 179 

He has my heart yet, and shall have my prayers 
While I shall have my life. Come, reverend 

fathers, 
Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, 

164. "as terrible as storms"; it was one of the charges brought 
against Lord Essex, that in a letter written during his retirement in 
1598 to the lord keeper, he had said, "There is no tempest to the 
passionate indignation of a prince." — H. N. H. 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

That little thought, when she set footing here, 
She should have bought her dignities so dear. 



Scene II 

Ante-chamber to the King's apartment. 

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Suffolk, 
the Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. 

Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints 
And force them with a constancy, the cardinal 
Cannot stand under them: if you omit 
The oif er of this time, I cannot promise 
But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, 
With these you bear already. 

Sur. I am joyful 

To meet the least occasion that may give me 
Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, 
To be revenged on him. 

Suff^. Which of the peers 

Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least 10 
Strangely neglected? when did he regard 
The stamp of nobleness in any person 
Out of himself? 

Cham. My lords, you speak your pleasures: 

What he deserves of you and me I know; 
What we can do to him, though now the time 
Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot 

S. "the duke"; i. e. Buckingham. — C. H. H. 

10. "uticontemned" ; of course, the force of not implied in uncon- 
temn'd extends over strangely neglected. — H. N. H. 
.90 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. iL 

Bar his access to the king, never attempt 

Any thing on him ; for he hath a witchcraft 

Over the king in 's tongue. 
Nor. O, fear him not ; 

His spell in that is out : the king hath found 20 

Matter against him that for ever mars 

The honey of his language. No, he 's settled, 

Not to come off, in his displeasure. 
Sur. Sir, 

I should be glad to hear such news as this 

Once every hour. 
Nor. Believe it, this is true 

In the divorce his contrary proceedings 

Are all unfolded; wherein he appears 

As I would wish mine enemy. 
Sur. How came 

His practices to light? 
Suf. Most strangely. 

Sur. O, how, how? 

Suf. The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, 

And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was 
read 31 

How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness 

To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if 

It did take place, 'I do' quoth he 'perceive 

My king is tangled in affection to 

A creature of the queen's. Lady Anne BuUen.' 
Sur. Has the king this? 
Suf. Believe it. 

Sur. Will this work? 

Cham. The king in this perceives him, how he 
coasts 

91 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

And hedges his own way. But in this point 
All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic 
After his patient's death: the king already 41 
Hath married the fair lady. 

Sur. Would he had! 

Siif. May you be happy in your wish, my lord ! 
For, I profess, you have it. 

Sur. Now, all my joy 

Trace the conjunction! 

Suf. My amen to 't ! 

Nor, All men 's ! 

Suf. There 's order given for her coronation : 
Marry, this is yet but j^oung, and may be left 
To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords. 
She is a gallant creature and complete 49 

In mind and feature : I persuade me, from her 
Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall 
In it be memorized. 

Sur. But will the king 

Digest this letter of the cardinal's ? 
The Lord forbid! 

Nor. Marry amen ! 

Suf. No, no ; 

There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose 

43. "the king already hath married" ; the date commonly assigned 
for the marriage of Henry and Anne is November 14, 153.-?; at M'hich 
time they set sail together from Calais, the king having been on a 
visit to his royal brother of France. Lingard, following Godwin, 
Stowe, and Cranmer, says they were privately married the 25th of 
January, 1533, and~^that the former date was assigned in order to 
afford the proper space between their marriage and the birth of 
Elizabeth, which latter event took place the 7th of September follow- 
ing. The marriage was to have been kept secret till May; but the 
manifest making-ready of Anne to become a mother forced on a 
public acknowledgment of it early in April. — H. N. H. 
92 



KING HENRY VIII Act iii. Sc. ii. 

Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal 
Campeius 

Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; 

Has left the cause o' the king unhandled, and 

Is posted as the agent of our cardinal, 

To second all his plot. I do assure you 60 

The king cried 'Ha !' at this. 
Cham. Now God incense him, 

And let him cry 'Ha !' louder ! 
Nor. But, my lord, 

When returns Cranmer? 
Suf. He is return'd in his opinions, which 

Have satisfied the king for his divorce. 

Together with all famous colleges 

Almost in Christendom : shortly, I believe, 

His second marriage shall be publish'd, and 

Her coronation. Katharine no more 

Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager 70 

And widow to Prince Arthur. ' 
Nor. This same Cranmer 's 

A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain 

In the king's business. 
Suf. He has ; and we shall see him 

For it an archbishop. 
Nor. So I hear. 

Suf. 'Tis so. 

The cardinal! 

Enter Wolsey and Cromwell. 

64. "He is returned in his opinions" i. e. having sent in advance 
the opinions he has gathered.^I. G. 

QQ. "Together toith all famous colleges"; Rowe reads, "Gather'd 
from all the famous colleges." — I. G. 

93 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Nor. Observe, observe, he 's moody. 

Wol. The packet, Cromwell, 

Gave 't you the king? 
Crom. To his own hand, in 's bedchamber. 

Wol. Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? 
Crom. Presently 

He did unseal them, and the first he view'd, 

He did it with a serious mind; a heed 80 

Was in his countenance. You he bade 

Attend him here this morning. 
Wol. Is he ready 

To come abroad? 
Crom. I think, by this he is. 

Wol. Leave me awhile. [Ej:;it Cromwell. 

[Asideli It shall be to the Duchess of Alen9on, 

The French king's sister : he shall marry her. 

Anne Bullen ! No ; I '11 no Anne Bullens for 
him: 

There 's more in 't than fair visage. Bullen! 

No, we '11 no Bullens. Speedily I wish 

To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of 
Pembroke! 90 

Nor. He 's discontented. 
Suf. May be, he hears the king 

Does whet his anger to him. 
Sur. Sharp enough, 

Lord, for thy justice! 
Wol. {^Asidel The late queen's gentlewoman, a 
knight's daughter. 

To be her mistress' mistress ! the queen's queen ! 

This candle burns not clear : 'tis I must snufF it ; 

94 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Then out it goes. What though I know her 

virtuous 
And well deserving? j^et I know her for 
A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to 
Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of 100 
Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung 

up 
An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer, one 
Hath crawl'd into the favor of the king, 
And is his oracle. 
Nor. He is vex'd at something. 

Sur. I would 'twere something that would fret the 

string, 
The master-cord on 's heart ! 

Enter King, reading of a schedule , and Lovell. 

Suf. The king, the king! 

King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated 
To his own portion! and what expense by the 

hour 
Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of 

thrift. 
Does he rake this together? Now, my lords, HO 
Saw you the cardinal? 
Nor. My lord, we have 

Stood here observing him: some strange com- 
motion 
Is in his brain : he bites his lip, and starts ; 
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 
Then lays his finger on his temple ; straight 
Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, 
95 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts 
His eye against the moon : in most strange pos- 
tures 
We have seen him set himself. 
King. It may well be ; 

There is a mutiny in 's mind. This morning 120 
Papers of state he sent me to peruse, 
As I required : and wot you what I found 
There, on my conscience, put unwittingly? 
Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing. 
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure. 
Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household, which 
I find at such proud rate that it out-speaks 
Possession of a subject. 

128. "outspeaks possession of a subject"; this incident, in its appli- 
cation to Wolsey, is a fiction: he made no such mistake; but another 
person having once done so, he took occasion thereby to ruin him. 
It is quite likely, however, that his vast wealth had the effect of 
tempting the king's rapacity; his huge overgrowth thus helping on 
his overthrow. So that the Poet was very judicious in making his 
fall turn upon a mistake which in his hands had proved so fatal 
to another. The story is told by Holinshed of Thomas Ruthall, 
bishop of Durham; who was accounted the richest subject in the 
realm; and who, having bj^ the king's order written a book setting 
forth the whole estate of the kingdom, had it bound up in the same 
style as one before written, setting forth his own private affairs. 
At the proper time the king sent Wolsey to get the book, and the 
bishop gave him the wrong one. "The cardinall, having the booke, 
went foorthwith to the king, delivered it into his hands, and breefe- 
lie informed him of the contents thereof; putting further into his 
head, that if at anie time he were destitute of a masse of monie, he 
should not need to seeke further than to the cofers of the bishop. 
Of all which when the bishop had intelligence, he was stricken with 
such greefe, that he shortlie ended his life in the yeare 1523. After 
whose death the cardinall, which had long gaped after the bishop- 
rike, had now his wish in effect; which he the more easilie com- 
passed, for that he had his nets alwaies readie cast, as assuring 
himself to take a trout." — H. N. H. 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Nor. It 's heaven's will: 

Some spirit put this paper in the packet, 
To bless your eye withal. 

King, If we did think 130 

His contemplation were above the earth, 
And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still 
Dwell in his musings : but I am afraid 
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth 
His serious considering. 

[King takes his seat; whispers Lovell, 
who goes to the Cardinal. 

JVol. Heaven forgive me! 

Ever God bless your highness ! 

King. Good my lord, 

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the in- 
ventory 
Of your best graces in your mind; the which 
You were now running o'er: you have scarce 

time 
To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span 140 
To keep your earthly audit : sure, in that 
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad 
To have ;^ou therein my companion. 

Wol. Sir, 

For holy offices I have a time; a time 
To think upon the part of business which 
I bear i' the state ; and nature does require 
Her times of preservation, which perforce 
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal. 
Must give my tendance to. 

King. You have said well, 

XXIV— 7 97 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, 
As I will lend you cause, my doing well 151 
With my well saying ! 

King. 'Tis well said again ; 

And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: 
And yet words are no deeds. My father loved 

you: 
He said he did, and with his deed did crown 
His word upon you. Since I had my office, 
I have kept you next my heart ; have not alone 
Employ'd you where high profits might come 

home. 
But pared my present havings, to bestow 
My bounties upon you. 

Wol. \_Aside~\ What should this mean? 160 

Sur. \_Aside^ The Lord increase this business! 

King. Have I not made you 

The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell 

me, 
If what I now pronounce you have found true : 
And, if you may confess it, say withal. 
If you are bound to us or no. What say you? 

TVol. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, 
Shower'd on me daily, have been more than 

could 
My studied purposes requite; which went 
Beyond all man's endeavors: my endeavors 
Have ever come too short of my desires, 170 
Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends 
Have been mine so that evermore they pointed 
To the good of your most sacred person and 

172. "been mine so"; so F. 1 ; Ff. 3, 3, 4 read "been so." — I. G. 
98 



KING HENRY VIII Act iii. Sc. ii. 

The profit of the state. For your great graces 
Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I 
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, 
My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, 
Which ever has and ever shall be growing. 
Till death, that vrinter, kill it. 
King. Fairly answer'd; 

A loyal and obedient subject is 180 

Therein illustrated: the honor of it 
Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary, 
The foulness is the punishment. I presume 
That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you. 
My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honor, 

more 
On you than any; so your hand and heart. 
Your brain and every function of your power, 
Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, 
As 'twere in love's particular, be more 
To me, your friend, than any. 
Wol 1 do profess 190 

That for your highness' good I ever labor'd 
More than mine own; that am, have, and will 

be— 

181. "the honor of it does pay the act of it"; the honor attaching 
to such loyalty sufficiently rewards it. — C. H. H. 

189. "in love's particular" j besides your bond of duty as a loyal 
and obedient servant, you owe a particular devotion to me as your 
special benefactor. — H. N. H. 

192. "that am, have, and will he," etc.; the reading of the Folios 
of these lines, which have taxed the ingenuity of scholars; some 
two-dozen various emendations are recorded in the Cambridge Shake- 
speare, but probably the text as we have it represents the author's 
words; the meaning of the passage is clear, and the difficulty is 
due to the change in construction. Instead of "that am, have, and 
will he," it has been proposed to read„ "that am your slave, and 

99 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Though all the world should crack their duty 

to you, 
And throw it from their soul ; though perils did 
Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em 

and 
Appear in forms more horrid — yet my duty. 
As doth a rock against the chiding flood, 
Should the approach of this wild river break. 
And stand unshaken yours. 
King. 'Tis nobly spoken. 

Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast, 200 
For you have seen him open 't. ]^Giving him 

papers.^ Read o'er this ; 
And after, this : and then to breakfast with 
What appetite you have. 
\_EMt King, frowning upon the Cardinal: the 

nobles throng after him, smiling and whis- 
pering. 
Wol. What should this mean? 

What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd 

it? 
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin 
Leap'd from his eyes. So looks the chafed 

lion 
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him ; 
Then makes him nothing. I must read this 

paper ; 
I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so; 
This paper has undone me ; 'tis the account 210 

will he"; this would get rid of the awkward "Aaue"="have been," 
but probably the line is correct as it stands. — I. G. 

210. " 'tis the account," etc. Holinshed records that an inadvertence 
of this kind was committed by the Bishop of Durham in 1523, which 
100 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Of all that world of wealth I have drawn to- 
gether 
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the pope- 
dom, 
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence! 
Fit for a fool to fall by : what cross devil 
Made me put this main secret in the packet 
I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this? 
No new device to beat this from his brains? 
I know 'twill stir him strongly ; yet I know 
A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune 
Will bring me off again. What 's this? 'To 
the Pope!' 220 

The letter, as I live, with all the business 
I writ to 's holiness. Nay then, farewell ! 
I have touch'd the highest point of all my great- 
ness; 
And, from that full meridian of my glory, 
I haste now to my setting: I shall fall 
Like a bright exhalation in the evening. 
And no man see me more. 

Re-enter to Wolsey the Dukes of Norfolk and 
Suffolk, the Earl of Surrey, and the Lord 
Chamberlain. 

Nor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who com- 
mands you 
To render up the great seal presently 
Into our hands ; and to confine yourself 230 

Wolsey used to procure his disgrace. Shakespeare, not without 
poetic justice, makes him here play his victim's part.— C. H. H. 
214. "cross"; thwarting.— C. H. H. 

101 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

To Asher-house, my Lord of Winchester's, 
Till you hear further from his highness. 

Wol Stay: 

Where 's your commission, lords ? words can- 
not carry 
Authority so weighty. 

Suf. • Who dare cross 'em, 

Bearing the king's will from his mouth ex- 
pressly? 

Wol. Till I find more than will or words to do it — 
I mean your malice — know, officious lords, 
I dare, and must deny it. Now I feel 
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded — envy: 
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, 240 

As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton 
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin! 
Follow your envious courses, men of malice; 
You have Christian warrant for 'em, and, no 

doubt. 
In time will find their fit rewards. That seal 
You ask with such a violence, the king. 
Mine and your master, with his own hand gave 

me; 
Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honors, 
During my life ; and, to confirm his goodness. 
Tied it by letters-patents: now, who '11 take it? 

Sur. The king, that gave it. 

Wol. It must be himself, then. 251 

Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. 

Wol. Proud lord, thou liest : 

Within these forty hours Surry durst better 
Have burnt that tongue than said so. 

102 



KING HENRY VIII Act iii. Sc. ii. 

Sur. Thy ambition, 

Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewaiUng land 
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law: 
The heads of all thy brother cardinals, 
With thee and all thy best parts bound together, 
Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your 

policy ! 
You sent me deputy for Ireland; 260 

Far from his succor, from the king, from all 
That might have mercy on the fault thou gavesi 

him; 
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity. 
Absolved him with an axe. 
Wol. This, and all else 

This talking lord can lay upon my credit, 
I answer, is most false. The duke by law 
Found his deserts. How innocent I was 
From any private malice in his end. 
His noble jury and foul cause can witness. 
If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you 
You have as little honesty as honor, 271 

That in the way of loyalty and truth 

264. "absolved Mm," etc.; we have already seen that the Poet con- 
tinues the same persons duke of Norfolk and earl of Surrey through 
the play. Here the earl is the same who had married Buckingliam's 
daughter, and had been shifted off out of the way, when that great 
nobleman was to be struck at. In fact, however, he who, at the 
beginning of the play, 1521, was earl, became duke in 1525. At the 
time of this scene the earl of Surrey was the much-accomplished 
Henry Howard, son of the former, born in 1520; a man of fine 
genius and heroic spirit, afterwards distinguished alike in poetry 
and in arms, and who, on the mere strength of royal suspicion, was 
sent to the block in 1547 by that brutal and merciless tyrant, from 
whose mean and malignant jealousy there was no refuge for man 
or woman but the grave. — H. N. H. 

272. "that . . . dare mate"; i. e. I that . . . dare mate, — 
I, Q, 

X03 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Toward the king, my ever royal master, 
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be. 
And all that love his follies. 

Sur. By my soul. 

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou 

shouldst feel 
My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My 

lords. 
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance? 
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely, 
To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, 280 

Farewell nobility ; let his grace go forward. 
And dare us with his cap like larks. 

Wol. All goodness 

Is poison to thy stomach. 

Sur. Yes, that goodness 

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, 
Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion ; 
The goodness of your intercepted packets 
You writ to the pope against the king: your 

goodnesSj, 
Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious. 
My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble. 
As you respect the common good, the state 290 
Of our despised nobility, our issues. 
Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, 
Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles 
Collected from his life. I '11 startle you 

282. "And dare us with his cap like larks"; "One of the methods 
of daring larks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth, 
which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew 
his net over them" (Steevens). — I. G. 

104. 



KING HENRY VIII Act III. Sc. ii. 

Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown 
wench 

Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. 
IVol. How much, methinks, I could despise this 
man, 

But that I am bound in charity against it! 
Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand : 

But, thus much, they are foul ones. 
Wol. So much fairer 300 

And spotless shall mine innocence arise, 

When the king knows my truth. 
Sur. This cannot save yoia 

I thank my memory, I yet remember 

Some of these articles, and out they shall. 

Now, if you can blush and cry 'guilty,' cardinal, 

You '11 show a little honesty. 
JVol. Speak on, sir; 

I dare your worst objections: if I blush, 

It is to see a nobleman want manners. 
Sur. I had rather want those than my head. Have, 
at you ! 

First that, without the king's assent or knowl- 
edge, 

You wrought to be a legate ; by which power 310 

You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops. 
Nor. Then that in all your writ to Rome, or else 

To foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex mens' 

Was still inscribed; in which you brought the 
king 

300. "fairer and spotless"; the more, virtually implied in fairer, 
extends its force over spotless; "so much more fair and spotless." — 
H. N. H. 

314. "the king to be your servant"; these several charges are taken 
105 



Act in. Sc. iL THE LIFE OF 

To be your servant. 

Suf. Then that, without the knowledge 

Either of king or council, when you went 
Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold 
To carry into Flanders the great seal. 

Siir, Item, you sent a large commission 320 

To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude. 
Without the king's will or the state's allowance, 
A league between his highness and Ferrara. 

Suf. That, out of mere ambition, yon have caused 
Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin. 

Sur. Then, that you have sent innumerable sub- 
stance — 
By what means got, I leave to your own con- 
science — 
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways 
You have for dignities, to the mere undoing 

almost literally- from Holinshed, where the second item reads thus: 
"In all writings which he wrote to Rome, or anie other forren prince, 
he wrote Ego et rex meus, I and my king; as who would saie that 
the king were his servant." In the Latin idiom, however, such was 
the order prescribed by modesty itself. And, in fact, the charge 
against AVolsey, as given from the records by Lord Herbert, and 
lately reprinted in the State-Trials, was not that he set himself above 
or before the king, but that he spoke of himself along with him: 
"Also, the said lord cardinal, in divers and many of his letters and 
instructions sent out of this realm, had joined himself with your 
grace, as in saying and writing, — The king and I would ye should 
do thus; — The king and I give you our hearty thanks: whereby it is 
apparent that he used himself more like a fellow to your highness, 
than like a subject." — H. N. H. 

331. "Cassado"; so Ff., following Hall and Holinshed; Rowe reads 
the correct form, "Cassalis." — I. G. 

325. "stamped on the king's coin"; this was one of the articles 
exhibited against Wolsey, but rather with a view to swell the cata- 
logue than from any serious cause of accusation; inasmuch as the 
Archbishops Cranmer, Bainbridge, and Warham were indulged with 
the same privilege. — H. N. H. 



KING HENRY VIII Act ill. Sc. ii. 

Of all the kingdom. Many more there are; 330 
Which, since they are of you and odious, 
I will not taint my mouth with. 

Cham. O my lord! 

Press not a falling man too far ; 'tis virtue : 
His faults lie open to the laws ; let them. 
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see 

him 
So little of his great self. 

Sur. I forgive him. 

Suf. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure 
is — 
Because all those things you have done of late, 
By your power legatine, within this kingdom, 
Fall into the compass of a praemunire — 340 
That therefore such a writ be sued against you ; 
To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements. 
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be 
Out of the king's protection. This is my 
charge. 

Nor. And so we '11 leave you to your meditations 
How to live better. For your stubborn answer 
About the giving back the great seal to us. 
The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall 

thank you. 
So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal. 

[Eooeunt all hut Wolsey. 

Wol. So farewell to the little good you bear me. 350 
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! 
. This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms, 

343. "Chattels"; Theobald's emendation of Ff., "Castles."— I. G, 
107 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; 
The third day comes a frost, a kilhng frost, 
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, 
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, 
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders. 
This many summers in a sea of glory, 360 

But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride 
At length broke under me, and now has left me. 
Weary and old with service, to the mercy 
Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me. 
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: 
I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched 
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors ! 
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to. 
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin. 
More pangs and fears than wars or women 

have: 
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 371 
Never to hope again. 

Enter Cromwell, and stands amazed. 

Why, how now, Cromwell! 
Ci'om. I have no power to speak, sir. 
Wol, What, amazed 

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder 
A great man should decline? Nay, an you 

weep, 
I am fall'n indeed. 
Crom. How does your grace? 

Wol Why, well; 

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. 
io§ "' 



KING HENRY VIII Act III. Sc. ii. 

I know myself now; and I feel within me 
A peace above all earthly dignities, 
A still and quiet conscience. The king has 
cured me, 380 

I humbly thank his grace; and from these 

shoulders, 
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken 
A load would sink a navy, too much honor. 
O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden 
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven ! 

Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right 
use of it. 

JVol. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks, 
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, 
To endure more miseries and greater far 
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. 390 
What news abroad? 

Crom. The heaviest and the worst 

Is your displeasure with the king. 

Wol. God bless him! 

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen 
Lord chancellor in your place. 

Wol. That 's somewhat sudden : 

But he 's a learned man. May he continue 
Long in his highness' favor, and do justice 
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his 

bones. 
When he has run his course and sleeps in bless- 
ings, 

392. "displeasure"; disgrace. — C. H. H. 



100 



Act 111. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em! 
What more? 

Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome, 400 
Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury. 

Wol. That 's news indeed. 

Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, 

Whom the king hath in secrecy long married. 
This day was view'd in open as his queen. 
Going to chapel; and the voice is now 
Only about her coronation. 

Wol, There was the weight that puU'd me down. 
O Cromwell, 
The king has gone beyond me : all my glories 
In that one woman I have lost for ever : 
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors, 410 
Or gild again the noble troops that waited 

399. "a tomb of orphans' tears"; the chancellor is the general 
guardian of orphans. "A tomb of tears," says Johnson, "is very 
harsh." Steevens has adduced an Epigram of Martial, in which the 
Heliades are said to "weep a tomb of tears" over a viper. Drum- 
mond, in his Teares for the Death of Moeliades, has the same con- 
ceit: 

"The Muses, Phoebus, Love, have raised of their teares 
A crystal tomb to him, through which his worth appears." 

— H. N. H. 

408. "gone beyond me"; overreached me. — C. H. H. 

411. "the noble troops that ivaited" ; the number of persons who 
composed Cardinal Wolsey's household, according to the authentic 
copy of Cavendish, was five hundred. Cavendish's work, though writ- 
ten soon after the death of Wolsey, was not printed till 1641, and then 
in a most unfaithful and garbled manner, the object of the publication 
having been to render Laud odious, by showing how far church power 
had been extended by Wolsey, and how dangerous that prelate was, 
who, in the opinion of many, followed his example. In that spurious 
copy we read that the number of his household was eight hundred 
persons. In other MSS. and in Dr. Wordsworth's edition, we find 
it stated at one hundred and eighty persons. — H. N. H. 

110 



KING HENRY VIII Act III. Sc. ii. 

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Crom- 
well; 
I am a poor f all'n man, unworthy now 
To be thy lord and master : seek the king ; 
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told 

him 
What and how true thou art: he will advance 

thee; 
Some little memory of me will stir him — 
I know his noble nature — not to let 
Thy hopeful service perish too : good Cromwell, 
Neglect him not ; make use now, and provide 420 
For thine own future safety. 
Crom. O my lord, 

Must I then leave you? must I needs forgo 
So good, so noble and so true a master? 
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron. 
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. 
The king shall have my service, but my prayers 
For ever and for ever shall be yours. 
Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear 
In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, 
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 430 
Let 's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Crom- 
well; 
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be. 
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention 
Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught 

thee ; 
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, 
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor, 

430. "truth"; fidelity.— C. H. H. 
Ill 



Act III. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; 
A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd 

it. 
Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me. 439 
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: 
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then. 
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? 
Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate 

thee ; 
Corruption wins not more than honesty. 
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, 
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear 

not: 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's. 
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O 

Cromwell, 
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king; 
And prithee, lead me in : 450 

There take an inventory of all I have. 
To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe, 
And my integrity to heaven, is all 
I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Crom- 
well! 
Had I but served my God with half the zeal 
I served my king, he would not in mine age 
Have left me naked to mine enemies. 
Crom. Good sir, have patience. 
tVol. So I have. Farewell. 

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do 
dwell. [Exeunt. 

455. "Had I but served my God," etc. Holinshed reports these 
♦words as addressed by Wolsey in his last hours to "Master Kingston." 
— C. H. H, 

112 



KING HENRY VIII Act. iv. Sc. i. 



ACT FOURTH 

Scene I 

A street in Westminster. 

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another. 

First Gent. You 're well met once again. 
Sec. Gent. So are you. 

First Gent. You come to take your stand here and 
behold 
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation? 
Sec. Gent. "Tis all my business. At our last en- 
counter, 
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial. 
First Gent. 'Tis very true: but that time ofFer'd 
sorrow ; 
This, general joy. 
Sec. Gent. 'Tis well: the citizens, 

I am sure, have shown at full their royal 

minds — 
As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever for- 
ward — 
In celebration of this day with shows, K^ 

Pageants and sights of honor. 
First Gent. Never greater, 

Nor, I '11 assure you, better taken, sir, 

21 E 113 



Act IV. Sc. i. THE LIFE OP 

Sec. Gent. May I be bold to ask what that con- 
tains, 
That paper in your hand? 

First Gent. Yes ; 'tis the Hst 

Of those that claim their offices this day 
By custom of the coronation. 
The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims 
To be high-steward ; next, the Duke of Norfolk, 
He to be earl marshal : you may read the rest. 

Sec. Gent. I thank you, sir: had I not known 
those customs, 20 

I should have been beholding to your paper. 
But, I beseech you, what 's become of Kath- 
arine, 
The princess dowager? how goes her business? 

First Gent. That I can tell you too. The Arch- 
bishop 
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other 
Learned and reverend fathers of his order, 
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off 
From Ampthill, where the princess lay; to 

which 
She was often cited by them, but appear'd not: 
And, to be short, for not appearance and 30 
The king's late scruple, by the main assent 
Of all these learned men she was divorced. 
And the late marriage made of none effect : 
Since which she was removed to Kimbolton, 
Where she remains now sick. 

Sec. Gent. Alas, good lady ! 

[Trumpets. 



114 



KINO HENRY VIII Act. iv. Sc. i. 

The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is 
coming. \_Hautboys. 

THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION 

1. A lively Flourish of Trumpets. 

2. Then two Judges. 

3. Lord Chancellor, with purse and mace before 

him. 

4. Choristers, singing. Musicians. 

5. Mayor of London, hearing the mace. Then 

Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head 
he wears a gilt copper crown. 

6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a scepter of gold, on 

his head a demi- coronal of gold. With him, 
the Earl of Surrey, bearing the rod of silver 
with the dove, crowned with an earVs coronet. 
Collars of SS. 
K, Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his coronet 
on his head, beaiing a long white wand, as 
high-steward. With him, the Duke of Nor- 
folk, with the rod of marshalship, a coronet 
on his head. Collars of SS. 

8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports; 

under it, the Queen in her robe; in her hair 
richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On 
each side her, the Bishops of London and 
Winchester. 

9, The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of 

gold, wrought with flowers, beaiing the 
Queen's train. 

36. "Oarter, in his coat of arms"; that is, his coat of office, em- 
blazoned with the royal arms. — H. N. H. 
115 



Act IV. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

10. Certain ladies or Countesses ^ with plain circlets 
of gold without flowers. 
They pass over the stage in order and state. 

Sec. Gent. A royal train, believe me. Thiese I 
know : 

Who 's that that bears the scepter? 
First Gent. Marquess Dorset: 

And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod. 
Sec. Gent. A bold brave gentleman. That should 
be 40 

The Duke of Suffolk? 
First Gent. 'Tis the same: high-steward. 

Sec. Gent. And that my Lord of Norfolk? 
First. Gent. Yes. 

Sec. Gent. \_L00ki71g an the Queen'] Heaven 
bless thee! 

Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on. 

Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel; 

Our king has all the Indies in his arms. 

And more and richer, when he strains that lady : 

I cannot blame his conscience. 
First Gent. They that bear 

The cloth of honor over her, are four barons 

Of the Cinque-ports. 
Sec. Gent. Those men are happy; and so are all 
are near her. 50 

I take it, she that carries up the train 

Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk. 
First Gent, It is ; and all the rest are countesses. 
Sec. Gent. Their coronets say so. These are stars 
indeed, 

And sometimes falling ones. 
116 



KING HENRY VIII Act iv. Sc. i. 

First Gent. No more of that. 

\_Eait procession; and then a great 
flourish of trumpets. 

Enter a third Gentleman. 

God save you, sir ! where have you been broihng? 

Third Gent. Among the crowd i' the abbey ; where 
a finger 
Could not be wedged in more : I am stifled 
With the mere rankness of their joj^ 

Sec. Gent. You saw 

The ceremony ? 

Third Gent. That I did. 

First Gent. How was it? 60 

Third Gent. Well worth the seeing. 

Sec. Gent. Good sir, speak it to us. 

Third Gent. As well as I am able. The rich 
stream 
Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen 
To a prepared place in the choir, fell off 
A distance from her; while her grace sat down 
To rest awhile, some half an hour or so. 
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely 
The beauty of her person to the people. 
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman 
That ever lay by man: which when the people 
Had the full view of, such a noise arose 71 

As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, 
As loud and to as many tunes : hats, cloaks, — 
Doublets, I think, — flew up ; and had their faces 
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such 

joy 

117 



Act IV. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

I never saw before. Great-bellied women, 
That had not half a week to go, like rams 
In the old time of war, would shake the press, 
And make 'em reel before 'em. No man liv- 

ing ^ 

Could say 'This is my wife' there, all were 
woven 80 

So strangely in one piece. 
Sec. Gent. But what follow' d? 

Third Gent. At length her grace rose, and with 
modest paces 
Came to the altar, where she kneel'd and saint- 
like 
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd de- 
voutly ; 
Then rose again and bow'd her to the people ; 
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury 
She had all the royal makings of a queen, 
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown. 
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such em- 
blems 89 
Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir. 
With all the choicest music in the kingdom. 
Together sung 'Te Detim.' So she parted, 

92. "together sung 'Te Deum'"; thus in Holinshed's description of 
the event: "When she was brought to the high place made in the 
middest of the church, she was set in a rich chaire. And after she 
had rested a while, she descended downe to the high altar, and there 
prostrate hirselfe, while the archbishop said certeine collects: then 
she rose, and the bishop anointed hir on the head and on the brest; 
and then she was led up again, where, after diverse orisons said, the 
archbishop set the crowne of saint Edward on hir head, and ttien 
delivered hir the scepter of gold in hir right hand, and the rod of 
ivorie with the dove in hir left hand, and then all the queere soong Te 
Deum." The coronation of Anne took place June 1, 1533; the di- 
118 



KING HENRY VIII Act. IV. Sc. i. 

And with the same full state paced back again 

To York-place, where the feast is held. 
'First Gent. Sir, 

You must no more call it York-place; that's 
past ; 

For, since the cardinal fell, that title 's lost: 

'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall. 
Third Gent. I know it; 

But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name 

Is fresh about me. 
Sec. Gent. What two reverend bishops 

Were those that went on each side of the queen? 

Third Gent. Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of 

Winchester, 101 

Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary. 

The other, London. 
Sec. Gent. He of Winchester 

Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's, 

The virtuous Cranmer. 
Third Gent. All the land knows that: 

However, yet there is no great breach ; when it 
comes, 

Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from 
him. 
Sec. Gent. Who may that be, I pray you? 
Third Gent. Thomas Cromwell; 

A man in much esteem with the king, and truly 

A worthy friend. The king has made him 
master 110 

vorcement of Katharine having been formally pronounced the 17th 
of May.— H. N. H. 

101. "the one"; viz. Gardiner. — C. H. H. 

119 



Act IV. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

O' the jewel house, 

And one, ah-eady, of the privy council. 
Sec, Gent. He will deserve more. 
Third Gent. Yes, without all doubt. 

Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way. 

Which is to the court, and there ye shall be my 
guests : 

Something I can command. As I walk thither, 

I '11 tell ye more. 
Both. You may command us, sir. [Exeunt. 



Scene II 

Kimbolton. 

Enter Katharine, Dowager , sick; led between Grif- 
fith, her Gentleman Usher ^ and Patience, her 
woman. 

Grif. How does your grace? 

Kath. O Griffith, sick to death ! 

My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth. 

Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair. 

So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease. 

Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st 
me 

That the great child of honor. Cardinal Wolsey, 

Was dead? 

6. "Cardinal Wolsey, was dead"; Wolsey died November 99, 1530; 
and the events of this scene did not occur till January, 1536, which 
was more than two years after the event that closes the play. This 
transposition is amply justified, in that the design of the play re- 
quired it to end with the birth and christening of Elizabeth; whi'' 
120 



KING HENRY VIII Act IV. Sc. ii. 

Grif. Yes, madam; but I think your grace, 

Out of the pain you suiFer'd, gave no ear to 't. 

Kath. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died : 
If well, he stepp'd before me, happily, 10 

For my example. 

Grif. Well, the voice goes, madam : 

For after the stout Earl Northumberland 
Arrested him at York, and brought him for- 
ward. 
As a man sorely tainted, to his answer, 
He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill 
He could not sit his mule. 

Kath. Alas, poor man! 

Grif. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, 
Lodged in the abbey ; where the reverend abbot. 
With all his covent, honorably received him; 
To whom he gave these words, 'O father ab- 
bot, 20 
An old man, broken with the storms of state, 
Is come to lay his weary»bones among ye ; 
Give him a little earth for charity !' 
So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness 

the solemn pathos lingering about the injured Katharine equally 
required that the last scene of her life should be set forth in all 
the beauty that belongs to that model of a woman and a queen. 
The present scene is, in strictness, episodical; but what an episode I 
Even so what we chance upon in the race of life, is often worth more 
than the object for which we are running. — H. N. H. 
14. "to his answer"; to stand trial. — C. H. H. 

16. "sit his mule"; Cardinals generally rode on mules, as a mark 
perhaps of humility. Cavendish says that Wolsey "rode like a car- 
dinal sumptuously upon his mule, trapped altogether in crimson vel- 
vet and gilt stirrups." — H. N. H. 

17. "roads," or rodes, here, is the same as courses, stages, or jour' 
neys.—R. N. H. 

121 



Act IV. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Pursued him still; and three nights after this, 
About the hour of eight, which he himself 
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance. 
Continual meditations, tears and sorrows. 
He gave his honors to the world again, 29 

His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. 

Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! 
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak 

him. 
And yet with charity. He was a man 
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking 
Himself with princes ; one that by suggestion 
Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair-play: 
His own opinion was his law : i' the presence 
He would say untruths, and be ever double 
Both in his words and meaning: he was never. 
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful: 40 

His promises were, as he then was, mighty ; 
But his performance, as he is now, nothing : 
Of his own body he was ill, and gave 
The clergy ill example. 

Grif. Noble madam. 

Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues 
We write in water. May it please your high- 
ness 

44. "The clergy ill example"; this speech was evidently founded 
upon the following, copied by Holinshed from Hall: "This cardinall 
was of a great stomach, for he compted himselfe equall with princes, 
and by craftie suggestion got into his hands innumerable treasure: 
he forced little on simonie, and was not pittifuU, and stood affec- 
tionate in his own opinion: in open presence he would lie and seie 
untruth, and was double both in speech and meaning: he would 
promise much and perform little: he was vicious of his bodie, and 
gave the clergie evill example." — H. N. H. 

122 



KING HENRY VIII Act IV. Sc. ii. 

To hear me speak his good now? 

Kath. Yes, good Griffith ; 

I were malicious else. 

Grif. This cardinal, 

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
Was fashion'd to much honor from his cradle. 
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; 51 
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken and persuading : 
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not. 
But to those men that sought him, sweet as sum- 
mer. 
And though he were unsatisfied in getting. 
Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam, 
He "^as most princely : ever witness for him 
Those twins of learning that he raised in you, 
Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with 

him. 
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; 60 
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous. 
So excellent in art and still so rising. 
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. 
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; 
For then, and not till then, he felt himself, 

47. "hear me speak his good." Griffith's defense of Wolsey is based 
upon the charactei- of him in Edmund Campian's History of Ireland, 
as quoted by Holinshed. The queen's indictment of him expresses 
the view conveyed by Halle, also quoted in Holinshed. — C. H. H. 

58-59. "Those tivins of learning. . . . Ipswich and O.vford" ; 
Wolsey's College, Ipswich, of which the gateway still remains, was 
founded by Wolsey. Christ Church College, Oxford, was founded 
by Wolsey: it was first called Cardinal College. — I. G. 

60. "the good that did it" ; Pope reads, "the good he did it"; Collier 
MS., "the good man did it"; Staunton, "the good that reai-'d it" etc. 
The words, if not corrupt, must mean the "good man (or the good- 
ness) that caused it, i. e. founded it." — I. G. 
123 



Act IV. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

And found the blessedness of being little : 

And, to add greater honors to his age 

That man could give him, he died fearing God. 

Kath. After my death I wish no other herald, 
Ko other speaker of my living actions, 70 

To keep mine honor from corruption, 
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. 
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me. 
With thy religious truth and modesty, 
Now in his ashes honor: peace be with him! 
Patience, be near me still ; and set me lower : 
I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, 
Cause the musicians play me that sad note 
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating 
On that celestial harmony I go to. 80 

• ISad and solemn music. 

Grif. She is asleep : good wench, let 's sit down 
quiet, 
For fear we wake her: softly, gentle Patience. 

68. "died fearing God"; this speech is formed on the following pas- 
sage in Holinshed: "This cardinall (as Edmund Campian in his 
Historie of Ireland described him) was a man undoubtedly born to 
honour; exceeding wise, faire-spoken, high-minded, full of revenge, 
vitious of his bodie; loftie to his enemies, were they never so big, 
to those that accepted and sought his friendship wonderful courteous; 
a ripe schooleman; thrall to affections, brought a-bed with flatterie; 
insatiable to get, and more princelie in bestowing; as appeareth 
by his two colleges at Ipswich and Oxenford, the one overthrown 
with his fall, the other unfinished, and yet as it lyeth, for an house 
of studentes incomparable throughout Christendome. — He held and 
injoied at once the bishop rickes of Yorke, Duresme, and Winches- 
ter, the dignities of lord cardinall, legat, and chancellor, the abbaie 
of St. Albans, diverse priories, sundrie fat benefices in commendam. 
A great preferrer of his servants, and advauncer of learning, stoute 
in every quarrel, never happy till this his overthrow; wherein he 
shewed such moderation, and ended so perfectlie, that the houre of 
his death did him more honour than all the pomp of his life passed." 
— H. N. H. 

124 



KING HENRY VIII Act iv. Sc. ii. 

TJie vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after an- 
other, sioc personages, clad in white robes, wear- 
ing on their heads garlands of hays, and golden 
vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm 
in their hands. They first congee unto her, then 
dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold 
a spare garland over her head; at which the other 
four make reverent curtsies; then the two that 
held the garland deliver the same to the other 
next two, who observe the same order in their 
changes, and holding the garland over her head: 
which done, they deliver the same garland to the 
last two, who likewise observe the same order: 
at which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in 
her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her 
hands to heaven: and so in their dancing vanish, 
carrying the garland with them. The music 
continues. 

Kath. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all 
gone, 
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? 

Grif. Madam, we are here. 

Kath. It is not you I call for : 

Saw ye none enter since I slept? 

Grif. None, madam. 

Kath. No? Saw you not even now a blessed troop 
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces 
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun? 
They promised me eternal happiness, 90 

And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel 
I am not worthy yet to wear : I shall, assuredly. 

125 



Act IV. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

Grif. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams 

Possess your fancy. 
Kath. Bid the music leave ; 

They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases. 
Pat. Do you note 

How much her grace is alter 'd on the sudden? 

How long her face is drawn ! how pale she looks, 

And of an earthy cold ! Mark her eyes ! 
Grif. She is going, wench: pray, pray. 
Pat. Heaven comfort her! 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. An 't like your grace, — 

Kath. You are a saucy fellow : 100 

Deserve we no more reverence? 
Grif. You are to blame. 

Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness. 

To use so rude behavior : go to, kneel. 
Mess. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; 

My haste made me unmannerly. There is stay- 
ing 

A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. 
Kath. Admit him entrance, Griffith : but this fellow 

Let me ne'er see again. 

[Exeunt Griffith and Messenger. 

Re-enter Griffith, with Capucius. 

If my sight fail not, 

103. "ffo to, kneel"; Queen Katharine's servants, after the di%'orce 
at Dunstable, were directed to be sworn to serve her not as queen 
but as princess dowager. Some refused to take the oath, and so 
were forced to leave her service; and as for those who took it and 
stayed, she would not be served by them, by which means she was 
almost destitute of attendants.— H. N. H. 



KING HENRY VIII Act iv. Sc ii 

You should be lord ambassador from the em-" 

peror. 
My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. HO 
Cap, Madam, the same; your servant. 
Kath. O, my lord, 

The times and titles now are alter'd strangely 
With me since first you knew me. But, I pray 

you, 
What is your pleasure with me? 
Cap. Noble lady, 

First, mine own service to your grace ; the next, 
The king's request that I would visit you ; 
Who grieves much for your weakness, and by 

me 
Sends you his princely commendations, 
And heartily entreats you take good comfort. 
Kath. O my good lord, that comfort comes too 
late; 120 

'Tis like a pardon after execution: 
That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me ; 
But now I am past all comforts here but 

prayers. 
How does his highness? 
Cap. Madam, in good health. 

Kath. So may he ever do ! and ever flourish, 

When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor 

name 
Banish'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter, 
I caused you write, yet sent away? 
Pat. No, madam. 

[Giving it to Katharine. 
Kath. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver 
127 



Act IV. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

This to my lord the king. 
Cap. Most willing, madam. 130 

Kath, In which I have conmiended to his goodness 
The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh- 
ter, — 
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on 

her! — 
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding — 
She is young and of a noble modest nature : 
I hope she will deserve well — and a little 
To love her for her mother's sake, that loved 

him. 
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor pe- 
tition 
Is that his noble grace would have some pity 
Upon my wretched women, that so long 140 
Have f ollow'd both my fortunes faithfully : 
Of which there is not one, I dare avow, — 
And now I should not lie — but will deserve. 
For virtue and true beauty of the soul. 
For honesty and decent carriage, 
A rich good husband, let him be a noble: 
And, sure, those men are happy that shall have 

'em. 
The last is, for my men ; they are the poorest, 
But poverty could never draw 'em from me; 
That they may have their wages duly paid 'era. 
And something over to remember me by : 151 
If heaven had pleased to have given me longer 

life 
And able means, we had not parted thus. 

14-6. "let him be a noble"; even if he should be. — H. N. H. 
128 



KING HENRY VIII Act iv. Sc. u. 

These are the whole contents: and, good my 

lord, 
By that you love the dearest m this world, 
As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, 
Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the 

king 
To do me this last right. 
Cap. By heaven, I will. 

Or let me lose the fashion of a man! 
Kath. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me 160 
In all humility unto his highness: 
Say his long trouble now is passing 
Out of this world; tell him, in death I bless'd 

him. 
For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Fare- 
well, 
My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience, 
You must not leave me yet : I must to bed ; 
Call in more women. When I am dead, good 

wench, 
Let me be used with honor: strew me over 
With maiden flowers, that all the world mdy 

know 
I was a chaste wife to my grave : embalm me, 170 
Then lay me forth ; although unqueen'd, yet like 
A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me. 
I can no more. [Exeunt, leading Katharine. 



XXIV-9 129 



Act V. Sc. n THE LIFE OF 



ACT FIFTH 
Scene I 

London. "A gallery in the palace. 

Enter Gardiner^ Bishop of Winchester^ a Page 
with a torch hefore him, met hy Sir Thomas 
Lovell. 

Gar. It 's one o'clock, boy, is 't not? 

Boy. It hath struck. 

Gar. These should be hours for necessities, 
Not for delights ; times to repair our nature 
With comforting repose, and not for us 
To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir 

Thomas ! 
Whither so late? 

Lov. Came you from the king, my lord? 

Gar. I did. Sir Thomas, and left him at primero 
With the Duke of Suffolk.. 

Lov. I must to him too, 

Before he go to bed. I '11 take my leave. 

Gar. Not yet. Sir Thomas Lovell. What 's the 
matter? 10 

It seems you are in haste : an if there be 
No great offense belongs to 't, give your friend 

3. "not for delights"; Gardiner himself is not much delighted. The 
delights at which he hints seem to be the king's diversions, which 
keep him in attendance. — H. N. H. 

ISO 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. i. 

Some touch of your late business: affairs that 
walk, 

As they say spirits do, at midnight, have 

In them a wilder nature than the business 

That seeks dispatch by day. 
Lov. My lord, I love you; 

And durst commend a secret to your ear 

Much weightier than this work. The queen 's 
in labor. 

They say, in great extremity; and fear'd 

She '11 with the labor end. 
Gar. The fruit she goes with 20 

I pray for heartily, that it may find 

Good time, and live: but for the stock. Sir 
Thomas, 

I wish it grubb'd up now. 
Lov. Methinks I could 

Cry the amen ; and yet my conscience says 

She 's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does 

Deserve our better wishes. 
Gar. But, sir, sir. 

Hear me. Sir Thomas : you 're a gentleman 

Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious; 

And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well, 

'Twill not. Sir Thomas Lovell, take 't of me, 30 

Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, 

Sleep in their graves. 
LtOv. Now, sir, you speak of two 

The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for 
Cromwell, 

Beside that of the jewel house, is made master 

34. "is"; Theobald, "he's."— I. G. 
131 



to V. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

O' the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, 

sir, 
Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments. 
With which the time will load him. The arch- 
bishop 
Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare 

speak 
One syllable against him? 
Gar. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, 

There are that dare; and I myself have ven- 
tured 40 
To speak my mind of him : and indeed this day, 
Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have 
Incensed the lords o' the council that he is — 
For so I know he is, they know he is — 
A most arch-heretic, a pestilence 
That does infect the land : with which they 

moved 
Have broken with the king ; who hath so far 
Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace 
And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs 
Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded 
To-morrow morning to the council-board 51 
He be convented. He 's a rank weed, Sir 

Thomas, 
And we must root him out. From your affairs 
I hinder you too long : good night. Sir Thomas. 
Lov. Many good nights, my lord : I rest your serv- 
ant. [Exeunt Gardiner and Page, 

Enter King and Suffolk. 
King. Charles, I will play no more to-night; 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. i. 

My mind 's not on 't ; you are too hard for me. 
Suf. Sir, I did never win of you before. 
King. But little, Charles, 

Nor shall not, when my fancy 's on my play. 60 

Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news? 
Lov. I could not personally deliver to her 

What you commanded me, but by her woman 

I sent your message ; who return'd her thanks 

In the great'st humbleness, and desired your 
highness 

Most heartily to pray for her. 
King. What say'st thou, ha? 

To pray for her? what, is she crying out? 
Lov. So said her woman, and that her sufferance 
made 

Almost each pang a death. 
King. Alas, good lady! 

Suf. God safely quit her of her burthen, and 70 

With gentle travail, to the gladding of 

Your highness with an heir! 
King. 'Tis midnight, Charles; 

Prithee, to bed ; and in thy prayers remember 

The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone ; 

For I must think of that which company 

Would not be friendly to. 
Suf. I wish your highness 

A quiet night, and my good mistress will 

Remember in my prayers. 
King. Charles, good night. [Exit Suffolk, 

Enter Sir Anthony Denny. 
Well, sir, what follows? 



Act V. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Den. Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop, 

As you commanded me. 
King. Ha! Canterbury? 81 

Den. Aye, my good lord. 

King. 'Tis true: where is he, Denny? 

Den. He attends your highness' pleasure. 
King, Bring him to us. 

[Eocit Denny. 
Lov. \_ Aside'] This is about that which the bishop 
spake : 

I am happily come hither. 

Re-enter Denny ^ with Cranmer. 

King. Avoid the gallery. [Lovell seems to stay.] 
Ha! I have said. Be gone. 

What ! [Exeunt Lovell and Denny. 

Cran. [Aside] I am fearful: wherefore frowns he 
thus? 

'Tis his aspect of terror. All 's not well. 
King. How now, my lord! you do desire to know 

Wherefore I sent for you. 
Cran. [Kneeling] It is my duty 90 

To attend your highness' pleasure. 
King. Pray you, arise. 

My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury. 

Come, you and I must w^alk a turn together; 

I have news to tell you: come, come, give me 
your hand. 

Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak. 

And am right sorry to repeat what follows: 

I have, and most unwillingly, of late 

Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord, 

134 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. i. 

Grievous complaints of you: which, being con- 

sider'd, 99 

Have moved us and our council, that you shall 
This morning come before us ; where, I know, 
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself, 
But that, till further trial in those charges 
Which will require your answer, you must take 
Your patience to you and be well contented 
To make your house our Tower : you a brother 

of us. 
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness 
Would come against you. 
Cran. [Kneeling] 1 humbly thank your highness ; 
And am right glad to catch this good occasion 
Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff 
And corn shall fly asunder : for, I know, m 

There 's none stands under more calumnious 

tongues 
Than I myself, poor man. 
King. Stand up, good Canterbury : 

Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted 
In us, thy friend: give me thy hand, stand up: 
Prithee, let 's walk. Now, by my holidame. 
What jnanner of man are you? My lord, I 

look'd 
You would have given me your petition, that 
I should have ta'en some pains to bring together 
Yourself and your accusers, and to have heard 

you, 120 

Without indurance further. 
Cran. Most dread liege, 

106. "you a brother of us," i. e. being a Privy; Councillor. — I. G. 
135 



Act V. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

The good I stand on is my truth and honesty: 

If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies, 

Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh 

not. 
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing 
What can be said against me. 
King. Know you not 

How your state stands i' the world, with the 

whole world? 
Your enemies are many, and not small; their 

practices 
Must bear the same proportion; and not ever 
The justice and the truth o' the question car- 
ries 130 
The due o' the verdict with it : at what ease 
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt 
To swear against you? Such things have been 

done. 
You are potently opposed, and with a malice 
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, 
I mean, in perjured witness, than your master. 
Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived 
Upon this naughty earth ? Go to, go to ; 
You take a precipice for no leap of danger. 
And woo your own destruction. 
Cran. God and your majesty 

Protect mine innocence, or I fall into 141 

The trap is laid for me! 
King. Be of good cheer; 

They shall no more prevail than we give way to. 
Keep comfort to you ; and this morning see 

136 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. i. 

You do appear before them. If they shall 

chance, 
In charging you with matters, to commit you, 
The best persuasions to the contrary 
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency 
The occasion shall instruct j'^ou : if entreaties 
Will render you no remedy, this ring 150 

Deliver them, and your appeal to us 
There make before them. Look, the good man 

weeps ! 
He 's honest, on mine honor. God's blest 

mother ! 
I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul 
None better in my kingdom. Get you gone. 
And do as I have bid you. \_Eccit Cranmer.'] 

He has strangled 
His language in his tears. 

156. "strangled his language in his tears"; this is taken almost 
literally from Fox, who makes the king speak to the archbishop as 
follows : " 'Doe not you know what state you be in with the whole 
world, and how manie great enemies you have? Do you not con- 
sider what an easie thing it is to procure three or four false knaves 
to witnesse against you? Think you to have better lucke that wai 
than your master Christ had? I see by it you will run headlong to 
your undoing, if I would suffer you. Your enemies shall not so 
prevaile against you, for I have otherwise devised with myselfe to 
keepe you out of their hands. Yet notwithstanding, to morrow, 
when the councell shall sit and send for you, resort unto them, and 
if in charging you with this matter they do commit you to the Tower, 
require of them, because you are one of them, a councellor, that 
you may have your accusers brought before them without any further 
indurance, and use for yourself e as good perswasions that way as 
you may devise; and if no intreatie will serve, then deliver unto them 
this my ring, and say unto them, if there be no remedie, my lords, 
hut that I must needs go to the Tower, then I revoke my cause from 
you, and appeale to the kings owne person, by this his token unto 
you all: for, so soon as they shall see this my ring, they shall under- 

137 



Act V. Sc. i. THE LIFE OF 

Enter Old Lady; Lovell following, 

Gent. \_Within'] Comeback: what mean you? 

Old L. I '11 not come back ; the tidings that I bring 

Will make my boldness manners. Now, good 
angels 

Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person 160 

Under their blessed wings ! 
King. Now, by thy looks 

I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver 'd? 

Say, aye, and of a boy. 
Old L. Aye, aye, my liege; 

And of a lovely boy : the God of heaven 

Both now and ever bless her ! 'tis a girl. 

Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen 

Desires your visitation, and to be 

Acquainted with this stranger : 'tis as like you 

As cherry is to cherry. 
King. Lovell! 

Lov. Sir? 169 

King. Give her an hundred marks. I '11 to the 
queen. [Eocit. 

Old. L. An hundred marks! By this light, I'll 
ha' more. 

An ordinary groom is for such payment. 

I will have more, or scold it out of him. 

Said I for this, the girl was like to him? 

I will have more, or else unsay 't ; and now. 

While it is hot, I '11 put it to the issue. [Exeunt. 

stand that I have resumed the whole cause into mine owne hands.' 
The archbishop, perceiving the kings benignitie so much to him- 
wards, had much ado to forbeare teares. 'Well,' said the king, 'go 
your waies, my lord, and do as I have bidden you.' " — H. N. H. 
167. "and to he"; i. e. and you to be. — C. H. H. 
138 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. ii. 

Scene II 

Before the council-chamber. 

Pursuivants, Pages, 8^c. attending. 

Enter Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Cran. I hope I am not too late ; and yet the gentle- 
man 

That was sent to me from the council pray'd 
me 

To make great haste. All fast? what means 
this? Ho! 

Who waits there ? Sure, you know me ? 

Enter Keeper. 

Keep. Yes, my lord; 

But yet I cannot help you. 
Cran. Why? 

Enter Doctor Butts. 

Keep. Your grace must wait till you be call'd for. 
Cran. So. 

Butts. [Aside~\ This is a piece of malice. I am 
glad 
I came this way so happily : the king 
Shall understand it presently. [Exit. 

Cran. [Aside] 'Tis Butts, 10 

The king's physician : as he pass'd along. 
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! 
Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For 
certain, 

139 



Act V. Sc. ii. THE LIFE OF 

This is of purpose laid by some that hate me — 
God turn their hearts! I never sought their 

maUce- — 
To quench mine honor: they would shame to 

make me 
Wait else at door, a fellow-councilor, 
'Mong boys, grooms and lackeys. But their 

pleasures 
Must be f ulfiU'd, and I attend with patience. 

Enter the King and Butts at a window above. 

Butts. I '11 show your grace the strangest sight — 
King. What's that, Butts? 20 

Butts. I think your highness saw this many a day. 
King. Body o' me, where is it? 
Butts. There, my lord : 

The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury ; 

Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursui- 
vants, 

Pages and footboys. 
King. Ha! 'tis he, indeed: 

Is this the honor they do one another? 

'Tis well there 's one above 'em yet. I had 
thought 

They had parted so much honesty among 'em, 

18. ["at a window above"] ; the suspicious vigilance of our ancestors 
contrived windows which overloolicd the insides of chapels, halls, 
kitchens, passages, etc. Some of these convenient peepholes may still 
be seen in colleges, and such ancient houses as have not suffered from 
the reformations of modern architecture. In a letter from Matthew 
Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, 1573, printed in Seward's Anec- 
dotes: "And if it please her majestie, she may come in through 
my gallerie, and see the disposition of the hall in dynner time, at 
a window opening thereinto." — H. N. H. 

140 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. iii. 

At least good manners, as not thus to suffer 
A man of his place and so near our favor 30 
To dance attendance on their lordship's pleas- 
ures, 
And at the door too, like a post with packets. 
By holy Mary, Butts, there 's knavery : 
Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close ; 
We shall hear more anon. [Exeunt, 



Scene III 

The council-chamber. 

Enter Lord Chancellor, places himself at the upper 
end of the table on the left hand; a seat being 
left void above him, as for Canterbury's seat; 
Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, 
Lord Chamberlain, Gardiner, seat themselves 
in order on each side. Cromwell at lower end, 
as secretary. Keeper at the door. 

Chan. Speak to the business, master secretary: 

34. "draw the curtain" ; that is, the curtain of the balcony or 
upper stage, where the king now is. The matter of this passage 
is thus given by Fox: "On the morrow, about nine of the clock 
before noone, the councell sent a gentleman usher for the arch- 
bishop, who, when hee came to the councell chamber doore, could not 
be let in, btit of purpose, as it seemed, was compelled there to wait 
among the pages, lackies, and serving men al alone. Doctor Buts, 
the kings physician, resorting that way, and espying how my lord 
of Canterbury was handled, went to the kings highnesse and said. 
My lord of Canterbury, if it please your grace, is well promoted: 
for now he is become a lackey or a serving man; for yonder he 
standeth this half hower at the councell chamber doore amongst 
them.' 'It is not so,' quoth the king, 'I trowe; nor the councell hath 
not so little discretion as to use the metropolitan of the realm in 
that sort, specially being one of their own number. But let them 
alone,' sayd the king, 'and we shall heare more soone.' " — H. N. H. 
141 



Act V. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Why are we met in council? 
Crom. Please your honors, 

The chief cause concerns his grace of Canter- 
bury. 
Gar. Has he had knowledge of it? 
Crom, Yes. 

Nor. Who waits there? 

Keep. Without, my noble lords? 
Gar. Yes. 

Keep. My lord archbishop ; 

And has done half an hour, to know your pleas- 
ures. 
Chan. Let him come in. 

Keep. Your grace may enter now. 

[Cranmer enters and approaches the council-table. 
Chan. My good lord archbishop, I 'm very sorry 
To sit here at this present and behold 
That chair stand empty ; but we all are men, 10 
In our own natures frail and capable 
Of our flesh; few are angels: out of which 

frailty 
And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach 

us, 
Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little, 
Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling 
The whole realm, by your teaching and your 

chaplains,: — 
For so we are inf orm'd, — with new opinions, 
Divers and dangerous; which are heresies, 

11-12. "frail and capable of our flesh"; Keightley, "culpable and 
frail," etc.; Pope, "arid capable Of frailty"; Malone, "incapable; Of 
our flesh"; Mason conj. "and culpable: Of our flesli" etc — I. G. 

142 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. m. 

And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious. 

Gax. Which reformation must be sudden too, 20 
My noble lords ; for those that tame wild horses 
Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, 
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits and 

spur 'em. 
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer. 
Out of our easiness and childish pity 
To one man's honor, this contagious sickness. 
Farewell all physic: and what follows then? 
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint 
Of the whole state: as of late days our neigh- 
bors, 
The upper Germany, can dearly witness, 30 
Yet freshly pitied in our memories. 

Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress 
Both of my life and office, I have labor'd. 
And with no little study, that my teaching 
And the strong course of my authority 
Might go one way, and safely ; and the end 
Was ever to do well : nor is there living, 
I speak it with a single heart, my lords, 
A man that more detests, more stirs against, 
Both in his private conscience and his place, 40 
Defacers of a public peace, than I do. 
Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart 
With less allegiance in it ! Men that make 
Envy and crooked malice nourishment 

22. "'pace 'em not in their hands"; i. e. "leading them by the 
bridle."— I. G. 

30. "The Upper Germany"; alluding to Thomas Munzer's insur- 
rection in Saxony (1521-1523), or to the Anabaptist rising in Mun- 
ster (1535) ; the passage is from Foxe. — I. G. 
143 



Act V. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships. 
That, in this case of justice, my accusers, 
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face. 
And freely urge against me. 
Suf, Nay, my lord. 

That cannot be : you are a councilor. 
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. 50 
Gar. My lord, because we have business of more 

moment. 
We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' 

pleasure, 
And our consent, for better trial of you. 
From hence you be committed to the Tower; 
Where, being but a private man again, 
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, 
More than, I fear, you are provided for. 
Cran. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank 

you; 
You are always my good friend; if your will 

pass, 
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror. 
You are so merciful. I see your end ; 61 

'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord, 
Become a churchman better than ambition : 
Win straying souls with modesty again. 
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, 
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, 
1 make as little doubt as you do conscience 
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more. 
But reverence to your calling makes me modest. 

59. "pass"; prevail.— C. H. H. 
66. "Lay," i. e. "though ye lay." — I. G. 
144 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. iii. 

Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary ; 70 

That 's the plain truth : your painted gloss dis- 
covers, 

To men that understand you, words and weak- 
ness. 
Crom. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little. 

By your good favor, too sharp ; men so noble, 

However faulty, yet should find respect 

For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty 

To load a falling man. 
Gar. Good master secretary, 

I cry your honor mercy ; you may, worst 

Of all this table, say so. 
Crom. Why, my lord? 

Gar. Do not I know you for a favorer 80 

Of this new sect? ye are not sound. 
Crom. Not sound? 

Gar. Not sound, I say. 
Crom. . Would you were half so honest ! 

Men's prayers then would seek you, not their 
fears. 
Gar. I shall remember this bold language. 
Crom. Do. 

Remember your bold life too. 
Chan. This is too much; 

Forbear, for shame, my lords. 
Gar. I have done. 

Crom. And I. 

Clian. Then thus for you, my lord : it stands agreed, 

I take it, by all voices, that forthwith 

85. "This is too much"; the Folios give the speech to the Cham- 
berlain, evidently due to confusion of "Cham," and "Chan,"—1. G. 
23 E 14.5 



Act V. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner ; 

There to remain till the king's further pleasure 

Be known unto us : are you all agreed, lords ? 91 
All. We are. 
Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, 

But I must needs to the Tower, my lords? 
Gar. What other 

Would you expect? you are strangely trouble- 
some. 

Let some o' the guard be ready there. 

Enter Guard. 

Cran. Forme? 

Must I go like a traitor thither? 

Gar. Receive him, 

And see him safe i' the Tower. 

Cran. Stay, good my lords, 

I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords ; 
By virtue of that ring, I take my causes 
Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it 100 
To a most noble judge, the king my master. 

Cham. This is the king's ring. 

Sur. 'Tis no counterfeit. 

Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all, 

102. "This is the king's ring"; it seems to have been a custom, be- 
gun probably before the regal power experienced the restraints of 
law, for every monarch to have a ring, the temporary possession of 
which invested the holder with the same authority as the owner him- 
self could exercise. The production of it was sufficient to suspend 
the execution of the law; it procured indemnity for offenses com- 
mitted, and imposed acquiescence and submission to whatever was 
done under its authority. The traditional story of the earl of Essex, 
Queen Elizabeth, and the countess of Nottingham, long considered 
as an incident of a romance, is generally known, and now as gen- 
erally credited. — H, N. H. 

146 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. iii. 

When we first put this dangerous stone a-roll- 
ing, 

'Twould fall upon ourselves. 
Nor. Do you think, my lords, 

The king will suiFer but the little finger 

Of this man to be vex'd? 
Cham. 'Tis now too certain : 

How much more is his life in value with him? 

Would I were fairly out on 't ! 
Crom. My mind gave me. 

In seeking tales and informations HO 

Against this man, whose honesty the devil 

And his disciples only envy at, 

Ye blew the fire that burns ye : now have at ye ! 

Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. 

Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to 
heaven 
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince. 
Not only good and wise, but most religious: 
One that, in all obedience, makes the church 

113. "now have at you"; so in Fox: "Anone the archbishop was 
called into the counsaille chamber, to whome was alledged as before 
is rehearsed. The archbishop answered in like sort as the king had 
advised him; and in the end, when he perceived that no maner of 
perswasion or intreatie could serve, he delivered them the kings ring, 
revoking his cause into the kings hands. The whole councell being 
thereat somewhat amazed, the earle of Bedford with a loud voice, 
confirming his wordes with a solemn othe, said, 'When you first 
began the matter, my lords, I tolde you what would come of it. 
Do you thinke that the king will suffer this mans finger to ake? 
Much more, I warrant you, will hee defend his life against brabling 
varlets. You doe but cumber yourselves to heare tales and fables 
against him.' And so, incontinently upon the receipt of the kings 
token, they all rose, and caryed the king his ring, surrendering that 
matter, as the order and use was, into his own hands." — H. N. H. 

147 



Act V. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

The chief aim of his honor ; and, to strengthen 
That holy duty, out of dear respect. 
His royal self in judgment comes to hear 120 
The cause betwixt her and this great offender. 
King. You were ever good at sudden commenda- 
tions. 
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not 
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence 
They are too thin and bare to hide offenses. 
To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel. 
And think with wagging of your tongue to win 

me; 
But, whatsoe'er thou takest me for, I 'm sure 
Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. 
[To Cranmerl Good man, sit down. Now let 
me see the proudest 130 

He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee : 
By all that 's holy, he had better starve 
Than but once think this place becomes thee not. 

125. "bare"; Malone's emendation of Ff., "base." — I. G. 

133. "becomes thee not"; the original here reads, — "Think his place 
becomes thee not," which is commonly retained in modern editions. 
Congruity of sense carries the mind at once to the seat Cranmer has 
just taken, as the place meant. And Mr. Dyce has shown, what 
is familiar enough to experienced proof-readers, that the misprint 
of his for this is one of the commonest. — We must quote again 
from Fox's narrative: "When they were all come to the kings 
presence, his highnes with a severe countenance said unto them, 
'Ah, my lords, I thought I had wiser men of my councell than 
now I find you. What discretion was this in you, thus to make 
the primate of the realm, and one of you in office, to waite at the 
councell chamber doore amongst serving men? You might have 
considered that he was a counsellor as wel as you, and you had 
no such commission of me as to handle him. I was content that 
you should trie him as a councellor, and not as a mean subject. 
But now I well perceive that things be done against him maliciously, 
and if some of you might have had your minds, you would have 
148 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. iii. 

Sur. May it please your grace, — 
King. No, sir, it does not please me. 

I had thought I had had men of some under- 
standing 
And wisdom of my council ; but I find none. 
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man, 
This good man, — few of your deserve that 

title,— 
This honest man, wait like a lousy f ootboy 139 
At chamber-door? and one as great as you are? 
Why, what a shame was this ! Did my commis- 
sion 
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye 
Power as he was a councilor to try him. 
Not as a groom : there 's some of ye, I see, 
More out of malice than integrity, 
Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean ; 
Which ye shall never have while I live. 
Chan. Thus far. 

My most dread sovereign, may it like your 

grace 
To let my tongue excuse all. What was pur- 
posed 

tried him to the uttermost. But I doe you all to wit, that if a 
prince may bee beholding unto his subject, by the faith I owe to 
God, T take this man here, my lord of Canterbury, to be above all 
other a most faith full subject unto us, and one to whome wee are 
much beholding;' giving him great commendations otherwise. And 
with that one or two of the chief est, making their excuse, declared 
that in requesting his indurance, it was rather meant for his triall 
and purgation against the common fame and slander of the world, 
than for any malice conceived against him. 'Well, well, my lords,' 
quoth the king, 'take him and use him well, as he is worthy to be, 
and make no more adoe.' And with that every man caught him 
by the hand, and made faire weather altogethers which might easily 
be done with that man." — H. N. H. 
149 



Act V. Sc. iii. THE LIFE OF 

Concerning his imprisonment, was rather, 150 

If there be faith in men, meant for his trial 

And fair purgation to the world, than malice, 

I 'm sure, in me. 
King. Well, well, my lords, respect him; 

Take him and use him well ; he 's worthy of it. 

I will say thus much for him, if a prince 

May be beholding to a subject, I 

Am, for his love and service, so to him. 

Make me no more ado, but all embrace him : 

Be friends, for shame, my lords ! My Lord of 
Canterbury, 160 

I have a suit which you must not deny me ; 

That is, a fair young maid that yet wants bap- 
tism; 

You must be godfather, and answer for her. 
Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory 

In such an honor : how may I deserve it. 

That am a poor and humble subject to you? 
King. Come, come, my lord, you 'Id spare your 

spoons: you shall have two noble partners 

with you; the old Duchess of Norfolk, and 

Lady Marquess Dorset : will these please 170 

you? 

Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge 
you. 

Embrace and love this man. 
Gar. With a true heart 

And brother-love I do it. 

165. "You 'Id spare your spoons" i. e. "you wish to save your 
spoons"; alluding to the old custom of giving spoons as christening 
presents. — I. G. 

150 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. iv. 

Cran. And let heaven 

Witness how dear I hold this confirmation. 
King. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true 
heart : 
The common voice, I see, is verified 
Of thee, which says thus : 'Do my Lord of Can- 
terbury 
A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.' 
Come, lords, we trifle time away ; I long 
To have this young one made a Christian. 180 
As I have made ye one, lords, one remain; 
So I grow stronger, you more honor gain. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene IV 

The palace yard. 

Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his 
Man. 

Port. You '11 leave your noise anon, ye rascals : 
do you take the court for Paris-garden? ye 
rude slaves, leave your gaping. 
lWithin~\ 'Good master porter, I belong to 
the larder.' 

Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye 
rogue! Is this a place to roar in? Fetch 
me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones : 
these are but switches to 'em. I '11 scratch 
your heads : you must be seeing christenings ? 10 
do you look for ale and' cakes here, you rude 
rascals? 

151 



Act V. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

Man. Pray, sir, be patient : 'tis as much impos- 
sible — 
Unless we sweep 'em from the door with can- 
nons — 
To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep 
On May-day morning ; which will never be : 
We may as well push against Powle's as stir 'em. 

Port. How got thej^ in, and be hang'd? 

Man. Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in? 

As much as one sound cudgel of four foot — 20 
You see the poor remainder — could distribute, 
I made no spare, sir. 

Port. You did nothing, sir. 

Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, 
To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared 

any 
That had a head to hit, either young or old, 
He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker. 
Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again ; 
And that I would not for a cow, God save her ! 
[Within'] 'Do you hear, master porter?' 

Port. I shall be with you presently, good master 30 
puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. 

Man. What would you have me do ? 

Port. What should you do, but knock 'em down 
by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster 
in? or have we some strange Indian with the 

28, "And that I would not for a cow, God save her!" a pro- 
verbial expression still used in the South of England. — I. G. 

35. "some strange Indian." Five American Indians came to Lon- 
don in 1611. Nearly at the same time Shakespeare, in The Tempest, 
II. ii., speaks of the popular duriosity excited even by "a dead In- 
dian."— C. H. H. 

152 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. iv. 

great tool come to court, the women so be- 
siege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornica- 
tion is at door ! On my Christian conscience, 
this one christening will beget a thousand; 
here will be father, godfather, and all to- 40 
gether. 
Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There 
is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should 
be a brazier by his face, for, o' my con- 
science, twenty of the dog-days now reign 
in 's nose; all that stand about him are un- 
der the line, they need no other penance : that 
fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, 
and three times was his nose discharged 
against me; he stands there, like a mortar- 50 
piece, to blow us. There was a haberdash- 
er's wife of small wit near him, that railed 
upon me till her pinked porringer fell off her 
head, for kindling such a combustion in the 
state. I missed the meteor once, and hit 
that woman, who cried out 'Clubs!' when I 
might see from far some forty truncheoners 
draw to her succor, which were the hope 'o 
the Strand, where she was quartered. They 
fell on; I made good my place: at length 60 
they came to the broomstaff to me ; I defied 
'em still : when suddenly a file of boj^s behind 
'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of 
pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honor 

51. "a haberdasher's wife of small wit"; probably with a play on 
the phrase "haberdasher of small wit," i. e. dealer in trifling jests. — 
C. H. H. 

153 



Act V. Sc. iv. THE LIFE OF 

in and let 'em win the work: the devil was 
amongst 'em, I think, surely. 
Port. These are the youths that thunder at a 
play-house and fight for bitten apples ; that 
no audience, but the tribulation of Tower- 
hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear 70 
brothers, are able to endure. I have some 
of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are 
like to dance these three days; besides the 
running banquet of two beadles that is to 
come. 

Enter Lord Chamberlain. 

Cham. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here ! 
They grow still too; from all parts they are 

coming, 
As if we kept a fair here. Where are these 

porters, 
These lazy knaves ? Ye have made a fine hand, 

fellows ! 
There 's a trim rabble let in : are all these 
Your faithful friends o' the suburbs ? We shall 

have 80 

Great store of room, no doubt, left for the 

ladies. 
When they pass back from the christening. 
Port. An 't please your honor, 

69, 70. "The tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Lime- 
house." There is no evidence for finding in these words the names 
of Puritan congregations, as commentators have supposed; the 
alternative phrases are sufficiently expressive without any such sup- 
position, and were perhaps coined for the occasion; they are not 
found elsewhere. — I. G. 

79. "made a fine hand"; played a pretty game. — C. H. H. 
154 



^' KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. v. 

We are but men ; and what so many may do, 
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done: 
An army cannot rule' em. 

Cham. As I live, 

If the king blame me for 't, I '11 lay ye all 
By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads 
Clap round fines for neglect : ye 're lazy knaves ; 
And here ye lie baiting of bombards when 
Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets 
sound ; 90 

They 're come already from the christening : 
Go, break among the press, and find a way out 
To let the troop pass fairly, or I '11 find 
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two 
months. 

Port. Make way there for the princess. 

Man. You great fellow, 

Stand close up, or I '11 make your head ache. 

Port. You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail ; 

I '11 peck you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt. 



Scene V. 

The palace. 

Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, 
Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Nor- 
folk with his marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, 
two Noblemen hearing great standing-howls 

87. "lay by the heels"; put in the stocks. — C. H. H. 
1. "Standing-bowls" were bowls elevated on feet or pedestals. — 
H. N. H. 

155 



Act V. Sc. V. THE LIFE OF 

for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen 
hearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of 
Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly 
habited in a mantle, S^c, train borne by a 
Lady; then follows the Marchioness Dorset:, 
the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop 
pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks. 

Gart. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send 
prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the 
high and mighty princess of England, Eliz- 
abeth! 

Flourish. Enter King and Guard. 

Cran. [Kneeling'] And to your royal grace, and 
the good queen. 
My noble partners and myself thus pray: 
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, 
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, 
May hourly fall upon ye ! 
King. Thank you, good lord archbishop: 

What is her name? 
Cran. Elizabeth. 

King. Stand up, lord. 10 

[The King kisses the child. 
With this kiss take my blessing: God protect 

thee! 
Into whose hand I give thy Hfe. 
Cran. Amen. 

King. My noble gossips, ye have been too prod- 
igal: 
I thank ye heartily ; so shall this lady. 
When she has so much English. 

156 



KING HENRY VIII Act V. Sc. v. 

Cran. Let me speak, sir. 

For heaven now bids me ; and the words I utter 
Let none think flattery, for they '11 find 'em 

truth. 
This royal infant — heaven still move about 

her ! — 
Though in her cradle, yet now promises 19 
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings. 
Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall 

be- 
But few now living can behold that goodness — 
A pattern to all princes living with her. 
And all that shall succeed: Saba was never 
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue 
Than this pure soul shall be : all princely graces. 
That mold up such a mighty piece as this is, 
With all the virtues that attend the good. 
Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse 

her, . 29 

Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: 
She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall 

bless her ; 
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn. 
And hang their heads with sorrow. Good 

grows with her ; 
In her days every man shall eat in safety. 
Under his own vine, what he plants, and sing 
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbors: 
God shall be truly known; and those about her 
From her shall read the perfect ways of honor, 
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. 

27. "piece"; creation, — "mighty" in virtue of her destiny. — C. H. H. 
157 



Act V. Sc. V. THE LIFE OF l\ 

Nor shall this peace sleep with her ; but, as when 

The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, 41 

Her ashes new create another heir 

As great in admiration as herself, 

So shall she leave her blessedness to one — 

When heaven shall call her from this cloud of 

darkness — 
Who from the sacred ashes of her honor 
Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was. 
And so stand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, 

terror, 
That were the servants to this chosen infant, 
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him: 
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine. 
His honor and the greatness of his name 52 
Shall be, and make new nations : he shall flourish, 
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches 
To all the plains about him. Our children's 

children 
Shall see this, and bless heaven. 

King. Thou speakest wonders. 

Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of England, 
An aged princess ; many days shall see her. 
And yet no day without a deed to crown it. 59 
Would I had known no more ! but she must die ; 
She must; the saints must have her ; yet a virgin, 

41. "maiden"; i. e. mateless. — C. H. H. 

53. "new nations"; on a picture of King James, which formerly- 
belonged to Bacon, and is now in the possession of Lord Grimston, 
he is styled imperii Atlantici conditor. In 1612 there was a lottery 
for the plantation of Virginia. The lines probably allude to the 
settlement of that colony.— H. N. H. 

61. "yet a virgin"; we here follow a suggestion of Mr. Dyce, in so 
pointing the passage as to make Cranmer express regret at his 
158 



KING HENRY VIII Act v. Sc. v. 

A most unspotted lily shall she pass 

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn 

her. 
King. O lord archbishop, 

Thou hast made me now a man ! never, before 
This happy child, did I get any thing. 
This oracle of comfort has so pleased me. 
That when I am in heaven I shall desire 
To see what this child does, and praise mv 

Maker. 69 

I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor. 
And your good brethren, I am much beholding ; 
I have received much honor by your presence. 
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, 

lords : 
Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank 

ye; 

She will be sick else. This day, no man think 
Has business at his house ; for all shall stay : 
This little one shall make it holiday. [Eoceunt. 

foreknowledge that Elizabeth was to die childless, not that she was 
to die; which latter is the meaning given by the usual pointing, thus: 

" 'Would I had known no more ! but she must die, 
She must, the saints must have her; j^et a virgin, 
A most unspotted lily shall she pass," &c. — H. N. H. 

71. "And your good brethren"; Thirlby's conjecture, adopted by- 
Theobald; Ff. read "and you good brethren." — I. G. 
76. "has"; i. e. he has; Ff., '"Has,"— I. G. 



159 



Epilogue KING HENRY VIII 



THE EPILOGUE 

'Tis ten to one this play can never please 
All that are here : some come to take their ease, 
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear, 
We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis 

clear, 
They '11 say 'tis naught : others, to hear the city 
Abused extremely, and to cry 'That 's witty!' 
Which we have not done neither; that, I fear, 
All the expected good we 're like to hear 
For this play at this time, is only in 
The merciful construction of good women ; 10 
For such a one we show'd 'em: if they smile, 
And say 'twill do, I know, within a while 
All the best men are ours ; for 'tis ill hap. 
If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. 



160 



GLOSSARY 

By Israel. Gollancz, M.A. 



Abergavenny, {vide Note) ; I. i. 
211. 

Abhor, protest strongly against; 
(according to Blackstone, a 
technical term of the canon 
law = Latin detestor, but Ho- 
linshed has "Abhor, refuse, and 
forsake"); II. iv. 81. 

Aboded, foreboded; I. i. 93, 

Admit, permit, allow; IV. ii. 107. 

Advertise, inform; II. iv. 178. 

Advised; "be a.", be careful, re- 
flect; I. i. 139. 

After, afterwards; III. ii. 203. 

Alike; "things known a.", i. e. 
equally to you as to the others ; 
I. ii. 45. 

Allay, subdue, silence; II. i, 152. 

Allegiant, loyal; III. ii. 176. 

Allow'd, approved; I. ii. 83. 

An, if; III. ii. 375. 

Anon, presently; I. ii. 107. 

A-piECES, in pieces; V. iv. 84. 

Appliance, application, cure; I. 
i. 124. 

Approve, confirm; (Collier MS., 
"improve") ; II. iii. 74. 

Arrogancy, arrogance; (F. 1, 
"Arrogancie" ; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "Ar- 
rogance") ; II. iv. 110. 

As, as if; I. i. 10. 

Asher-house; Asher was the old 
spelling of Esher, a place near 
Hampton Court; III. ii. 231. 



At, with ; V. i. 131. 
Attach, arrest; I. i. 217. 

, seized; I. i. 95. 

Attainder, disgrace; (Ff. 1, 2, 

"Attendure"; Ff. 3, 4, "Attain- 

dure") ; II. i. 41. 
Avaunt; "give her the a.", bid 

her begone; II. iii. 10. 
Avoid, quit, leave; V. i. 86. 

Baiting, drinking heavily; V. iv, 
89. 

Banquet, dessert; "running b.", 
i e. hasty refreshment; used 
figuratively; I. iv. 12, 

Bar, prevent; III. ii. 17. 

Beholding, beholden; I. iv. 41. 

Beneficial, beneficent ; "benefi- 
cial sun," I. e. the King; I. i. 
56. 

Beshrew me, a mild asseveration; 
II. iii. 24. 

Beside, besides; Prol. 19, 

Bevis, alluding to the old legend 
of the Saxon hero Bevis, whom 
William the Conqueror made 
Earl of Southampton; he was 
credited with performing in- 
credible deeds of valor; he con- 
quered the giant Ascapar; I. 
i. 38. 

Bevy, company of ladies; (orig- 
inally a flock of birds, espe- 
cially quails) ; I. iv. 4. 



XXIV— 11 



161 



Glossary 



THE LIFE OF 



Blister'd, slashed, puffed; (Ff. 1, 
% 3, "blistred"; F. 4, "bol- 
stred") ; I. iii. 31. 

Blow us, blow us up ; V. iv. SI. 

Bombards, large leathern vessels 
to carry liquors; V. iv. 89. 

Book, learning; (Collier MS., 
"b r d" ; Lettsom conj . 
"brat") ; I. i. 122. 

Bootless, useless; II. iv. 61. 

Bores, undermines, over-reaches; 
(Becket conj. "bords")\ I. i. 
128. 

Bosom up, inclose in your heart; 
I. i. 112. 

Bow'd; "a three-pence b." i. e. 
bent; perhaps alluding to the 
old custom of ratifying an 
agreement by a bent coin; or 
merely equivalent to a "worth- 
less coin"; II. iii. 36. 

Brake, thicket; I. ii. 75. 

Brazier, used quibblingly in dou- 
ble sense of (i.) a worker in 
brass, (ii.) a portable fireplace; 
V. iv. 44. 

Broken with, broached the sub- 
ject to; V. i. 47. 

Broomstaff, broomstaff's length; 
V. iv. 61. 

Buzzing, whisper; II, i. 148. 

By day and night! an exclama- 
tion; an oath; I. ii. 213. 



Camlet, a light woolen stuflf 
originally made of camel's 
hair; (Ff., "Chamblet") ; V. iv. 
97. 

Capable of; susceptible to the 
temptations of; V. iii. 11. 

Cardinal, (dissyllabic; F. 1, 
"Cardinall"); II. ii. 97. 

Carried, carried out; managed; I. 
i. 100. 

Caution, warning; II. iv. 186. 



Censure, judgment; I. i. 33. 

Certain, certainly; II. iv. 71. 

Certes, certainly; I. i. 48. 

Chafed, angry, enraged; (Ff. 1, 
2, " chaff' d") ; I. i. 123. 

Challenge, the legal right of ob- 
jecting to being tried by a per- 
son; II, iv. 77, 

Chambers, small cannon dis- 
charged on festal occasions; I. 
iv. 49. 

Cherubins, cherubs; I, i. 23. 

Cheveril, kid-skin, used adjec- 
tively; II. iii. 32. 

Chiding, noisy, clamorous; III. 
ii. 197. 

Chine, joint of beef; (Collier 
MS., "queen") ; V. iv. 27. 

Churchman, ecclesiastic; I. iii. 
6S. 

Cited, summoned to appear; IV. 
i. 29. 

Clerks, clergy; II, ii. 92. 

Clinquant, glittering with gold 
or silver lace; I. i. 19. 

Clotharius, one of the Merovin- 
gian kings of France; taken as 
a type of antiquity; I. iii. 10. 

Clubs! "In any public affray, 
the cry was Clubs! Clubs! by 
way of calling for persons with 
clubs to part the combatants" 
(Nares) ; clubs were the weap- 
ons of the London apprentices; 
V. iv, m. 

Coasts, creeps along, like a ves- 
sel following the windings of 
the coast; III. ii, 38. 

Colbrand, the Danish giant who, 
according to the old legend, 
was slain by Sir Guy of War- 
wick; V, iv,*23. 

Cold, coldness; (Collier MS,, 
"coldness" ; S, Walker, "col- 
or") ; IV, ii. 98, 

Color, pretext; I. 1. 178. 



162 



KING HENRY VIII 



Glossary 



Come off, get out, escape; III. ii. 

33. 
Commends, delivers; II. iii. 61, 
Commissions, warrants; I. ii. 20. 
Compell'd, thrust upon one, un- 
sought; II. iii. 87. 
Complete, accomplished; I. ii. 

118. 
Conceit, conception, opinion; II. 

iii. 74. 
Conceive, think, look upon; I. ii. 

105. 
Conclave, "the holy c", i. e. the 

College of Cardinals; II. ii. 

100, 
Confederacy, conspiracy; I. ii. 3. 
Confident; "I am c", I have 

confidence in you; II. i. 146. 
Conjunction; the technical term 

in astrology for the "conjunc- 
tion" of two planets; III. ii. 45. 
Consulting; "not c," i. e. not c. 

with each other spontaneously; 

I. 1. 91. 
Contrary, contradictory; III. ii. 

26. 
Convented, convened, summoned ; 

(Johnson, "convened") ; V. i. 

52. 
Cope; "to c", of encountering; 

I. ii, 78, 
CovENT, convent; IV. ii, 19. 
Crab-tree, crab apple tree; V, 

iv. 8. 
Credit, reputation; III. ii. 265. 
Cum privilegio, "with exclusive 

right"; I, iii. 34. 
Cure, curacy; I. iv. 33. 



Desperate, reckless, rash; III, i. 

86, 
Did, {v. Note) ; IV. ii. 60. 
Difference, dissension; I. i. 101. 
DiscERNER, critic; I. i. 32. 
Discovers, reveals, betrays ; V. iii. 

71. 
Disposed, used, employed; I. ii. 

116. 
Due; "due o' the verdict," right 

verdict; (Ff. 1, 2, "dew"); V. 

i. 131. 
Dunstable, Dunstable Priory; 

IV. i. 27. 

Easy roads, easy journeys, 

stages; IV. ii. 17. 
Element, component part; I. i. 

48. 
Emballing, investment with the 

ball; one of the insignia of 

royalty used at a coronation; 

II. iii. 47, 
Embracement, embrace; I. i, 10. 
End; "the e,", at the bottom; 

(Long MS., "at the end") ; II. 

i. 40. 
Envy, malice, hatred; II. i. 85. 
Equal, impartial; II. ii. 108. 
Estate, state; II. ii. 70. 
Even, pure, free from blemish; 

III. i. 37. 

Ever; "not e.", i. e. not always; 

V. i. 129. 

Exclamation, reproach, outcry; 

I. ii. 52. 
Exhalation, meteor, shooting 

star; III. ii. 226. 



Dare, make to cower in fear; Fail, failure of issue; I. ii. 145. 



{v. note) ; III. ii. 282, 
Dear, dearly; II. ii. 111. 
Deliver, relate, report; I. ii. 143. 
Demure, solemn; I. ii. 167. 
Derived, drawn upon, brought 

upon; II. iv. 32. 



Fail'd, died; I. ii. 184. 
Faints, makes faint; II. iii. 103. 
Faith, fidelity; II. i. 145. 
Father, father-in-law; II. i. 44. 
Fearful, afraid, full of fear; V. 
i. 88. 



163 



Glossary 



THE LIFE OF 



Fellow, equal; I. iii. 41. 
Fellows, comrades; II. i. 73. 
FifRCE, excessive; I. i. 54. 
File, list; I. i. 75. 
Filed with, kept pace with; 

(Ff., "filVd) ; III. ii. 171. 
Fine hand, nice business; V. iv. 

79. 
Fire-drake, fiery dragon, meteor, 

will o' the wisp; V. iv. 48. 
Fit; "fit o' the face," grimace; I. 

iii. 7. 
Fit, suitable; II. ii. 117. 
Flaw'd, broken; I. i. 95; made 
rents in, wrought damage; I. 
ii. 21. 
Fool and feather, alluding to 
the grotesque plume of feathers 
in the jester's cap; I. iii. 25. 
For, as for; II. ii. 50. 
Force, urge; III. ii. 2. 
Foreign man, one employed in 

foreign embassies; II. ii. 129. 
Forged, framed, planned; I. ii. 

181. 
Forty hours, used for an in- 
definite time; III. ii. 253. 
Forty pence, a sum commonly 
used for a trifling wager; II. 
iii. 89. 
Frame, plan ; I. ii. 44. 
Free, freely; II. i. 82. 
Free of, unaffected by; II. iv. 99. 
Fret, eat away; III. ii. 105. 
From, of; III. ii. 268. 
Front, am in the front rank; I. 

ii. 42. 
Fullers, cloth cleaners; I. ii. 33. 
Furnish'd, suitably appointed, 
arranged; II. ii. 141. 

Gainsay, deny; II. iv. 96. 

Gait, walk; (Ff., "gate")-. III. 

ii. 116. 
Gall'd, wounded; III. ii. 207. 
Gap, passage; V. i. 36. 



164 



Gaping, bawling, shouting; V. iv. 
3. 

Gave; "My mind g. me," i. e. 
gave me to understand, I had 
a misgiving; V. iii. 109. 

Gavest, didst impute to; III. ii. 
262. 

Gives way, makes way, gives op- 
portunity; III. ii. 16. 

Gladded, gladdened; II. iv. 196. 

Gladding, gladdening; V. i. 71. 

Glistering, glistening, shining; 
II. iii. 21. 

Gloss; "painted g.", highly col- 
ored comment, rhetorical flour- 
ish; V. iii. 71. 

Go ABOUT, intend to do; I. i. 131. 

Going out, expedition; I. i. 73. 

Good, goodness, (? wealth; or, 
good man) merit (Johnson 
conj. "ground")', V. i. 22; 
{vide Note) ; IV. ii. 60. 

Gossips, sponsors; V. v. 13. 

Government, self-control; II. iv. 
138. 

Grief, grievance; I. ii. 56. 

Grosser, coarser, ruder; I. ii. 84. 

Guarded, trimmed, ornamented ; 
Prol. 16. 

Guy, the famous Sir Guy of 
Warwick, the hero of the old 
romances; V. iv. 23. 

Hall; "the haU," i. e. Westmin- 
ster Hall; II. i. 2. 

Happiest; "h. hearers," i. e. best 
disposed, most favorable; Prol. 
24. 

Happily, haply, perhaps; IV. ii. 
10. 

Hardly, harshly, unfavorably ; -J. 

. ii. 105. 

Hard-ruled, not easily managed; 
III. ii. 101. 

Have-at-him, attack, thrust; 
{vide Note) ; II. ii. 85. 



KING' HENRY VIII 



Glossary 



Have at you ; an exclamation of Jaded, treated like j ades, 



warning in attacking; III. ii. 
309. 

HAvixa, possession, wealth; II. 
iii. 23. 

He, man ; V. iii. 131. 

Heart; "the best h.", the very 
essence, core; I. ii. 1. 

Hedges, creeps along by hedge- 
rows; (Warburton, "edges"); 
III. ii. 39. 

Height; "to the h.", in the high- 
est degree; I. ii, 214. 

Held, i. e. have it acknowledged; 
I. iii. 4T. 

, did hold good; II. i. 149, 

Hire, (dissyllabic); II. iii, 36, 

Holidame; "by my h,", an oath; 
(Ff., "holy dame" ; Rowe, "holy 
Dame") ; V. i. 116, 

Hours, (dissyllabic) ; V, i, 2, 

Hulling, floating to and fro; II, 
iv. 199. 

Husband; "an ill h.", a bad econ- 
omist or manager; III, ii. 142, 



In, concerning; II, iv, 103, 

Incensed, incited, made to be- 
lieve; (Nares, "insens'd" i. e. 
informed) ; V, i. 43, 

Indifferent, impartial, unbi- 
ased; II. iv, 17, 

Indurance, durance, imprison- 
ment; V, i. 121, 

Innumerable ; "i, substance," 
untold wealth, immense treas- 
ure; (Hanmer, "i. sums"); 
III. ii. 326. 

Interpreters; "sick i.", preju- 
diced critics; I, ii, 82, 

Issues, sons; III. ii. 291, 

Item, again, further; used in 
enumeration; III. ii. 320. 

Its, its own; (Ff., "it's"); I. i. 
18. 



spurned; III. ii. 280. 
Justify, confirm, ratify; I. ii. 6. 

Keech, the fat of an ox or cow, 
rolled up by a butcher in a 
round lump, hence a name 
given to Wolsey, the butcher's 
son; (F. 4, "Ketch,"); I. i. 55. 

KiMBOLTON, Kimbolton Castle in 
Huntingdon; now the seat of 
the Duke of Manchester; (F. 
1, 2, "Kymmalton" probably 
the contemporary pronuncia- 
tion of the word) ; IV, i. 34. 

Knock it, beat time; I. iv. 108, 

Lag end, lattet end; I. iii. 35. 

Large commission, warrant exer- 
cising full power; III. ii. 320, 

Late, "lately considered valid"; 
IV, i, 33. 

Lay, resided, dwelt; IV. i. 28. 

Lay by the heels, put in the 
stocks; V. iv. 87. 

Lay upon, charge, impute; III. 
ii. 265. 

Learnedly, like one learned in 
the law; II. i. 28, 

Leave, leave oif, desist; IV. ii. 
94. 

Legatine, pertaining to a legate 
(F. 1, "Legatine"; Ff. 2, 3, 
"Legantive" ; F. 4, "Legan- 
tine"); III. ii. 339. 

Leisure, time at one's own dis- 
posal; (Collier MS., "labour") ; 
III. ii. 140. 

Let; "let him be," even though 
he be; IV. ii. 146. 

Letters-patents (the correct 
Anglo-French form of literce 
patentes), letters patent; III. 
ii. 250. 

Level, aim; I. ii. 3. 

Like it, may it please; I. i. 100. 



165 



Glossary 



THE LIFE OF 



Limbo Patrum, prison; strictly 
the place where the souls of 
the Fathers of the Old Testa- 
ment remained till Christ's de- 
scent to hell; V. iv. 72, 

LixE, equator; V. iv. 47. 

List, pleases; IL ii. 22. 

Little; "in a 1.", in few words, 
briefly; II. i. 11. 

'Longing, belonging; (Ff. 1, 2, 
3, "longing") ; F. 4, "longing" ; 
I. ii. 32. 

Look for, expect; V. iv. 11. 

Loose, free of speech; II. i. 127. 

Lop, the smaller branches of a 
tree cut oflf for faggots; I. ii. 
96. 

Lose, forget; II. i. 57. 



Maidenhead, maidenhood; II. iii. 
23. 

Main, general; IV. i. 31. 

Makings; "royal m.", ensigns of 
royalty; IV. i. 87. 

Manage, training; V. iii. 24. 

Mark, a coin worth 13s. 4d.; V. 
i. 170. 

M A R s H A L s E A, the Well known 
prison; afterwards used as a 
debtors' prison; V. iv. 94. 

May, can; I. ii. 200. 

May-day morning; "in the 
month of May, namely, on 
May-day in the morning, every 
man except impediment, would 
walk into the sweet meadows 
and green woods; there to re- 
joice their spirits with the 
beauty and savor of sweet 
flowers, and with the noise of 
birds, praising God in their 
kind" (Stowe) ; V. iv. 16. 

Mazed, amazed, bewildering; II. 
iv. 185. 

Mean, means; V. iii. 146. 



Measure, a slow stately dance; 

I. iv. 106. 
Memorized, made memorable; 

III. ii. 52. 
Mere, utter, absolute; III. ii. 

329. 
Mincing, affectation; II. iii. 31. 
Mind, memory; III. ii. 138. 
Minds, "their royal m.", their de- 
votion to the king"; (Pope, 

"loyal"); IV. i. 8. 
Mistaken, misjudged; I. i. 195. 
Mistakes, misunderstands ; III. 

i. 101. 
Mo, more; II. iii. 97. 
Model, image, copy; IV. ii. 132. 
Modest, moderate; V. iii. 69,. 
Modesty, moderation; IV. ii. 74. 
Moiety, half; I. ii. 12. 
MooRFiELDs, a place of resort 

where the trainbands of the 

city were exercised; V. iv. 34. 
Motions, motives, impulses; I. i. 

1*3. 
Mounting, raising on high; I. ii. 

205. 
Mounts, makes to mount; I. i. 

144. 
Music, musicians; IV. ii. 94. 
Mysteries, artificial fashions; I. 

iii. 2. 
Naughty, wicked; V. i. 138. 
New-trimm'd, newly fitted up; I. 

ii. 80. 
Noised, rumored, reported; I. ii. 

105. 
Note, notice; "gives n.", pro- 
claims; I. i. 63; information; 

I. ii. 48. 
Noted, noticed, observed; II. i. 

46. 
Nothing, not at all ; V. i. 125. 

O', off from; V. iv. 97. 
Objections, accusations; III. ii. 
307. 



166 



KING HENRY VIII 



Glossary 



Offer, opportunity; III. ii. 4, 
Office; "the o.", i. e. the officers 
(Roderick conj, "each office"); 

I. i. 44. 

Omit, miss, neglect; III. ii. 3. 

On, of; I. i. 94. 

Once, at one time; I. ii. 82. 

On's, of his; III. ii. 106. 

Open; "in o.", openly, in public; 

III. ii. 404. 
Opinion, reputation (Vide note) ; 

Prol. 20. 
Opposing, placing face to face; 

(Long MS., "exposing") ; IV. 

i. 67. 
Other, otherwise; I. iii. 58. 
Outgo, go beyond, surpass; I. ii. 

207. 
Out or, except; III. ii. 13. 
Outspeaks, exceeds; III. ii. 127. 
Outworths, exceeds in value; I. 

i. 123. 

Pace, put through their paces; 

V. iii. 22. 
Pain, pains; III. ii. 72. 
Painting; "as a p.", i. e. of the 

cheeks; I. i. 26. 
Pales, palings, enclosure; V. iv. 

98. 
Panging, inflicting great pain; 

II. iii. 15. 

Papers, sets down on the list; 

(Campbell, "the papers"; 

Staunton conj. "he paupers"); 

(vide Note) ; I. i. 80. 
Paragon'd, regarded as a model 

or pattern; II. iv. 230. 
Parcels, parts, items; III. ii. 

125. 
Pared, diminished; III. ii. 159. 
Pari s-garden, the celebrated 

bear-garden on Bankside, 

Southwark (Ff. 1, 2, 3, "Parish 

Garden") ; V. iv. 2. 
Part away, depart; III. 1. 97. 



Parted, departed; IV. i. 92; 
shared, V. ii. 28. 

Particular, special ground; III. 
ii. 189. 

Part of, in part, partly; III. i. 
24. 

Peck, pitch, fling; (Johnson, 
"pick") ; V. iv. 98. 

Pepin, one of the Carlovingian 
Kings of France, taken as a 
type of antiquity; I. iii. 10. 

Period; "his p.", the end he 
wishes to attain; I. ii. 209. 

Perk'd up, made smart, dressed 
up; II. iii. 21. 

Perniciously, hatefully, to the 
death; II. i. 50. 

Phgenix; "maiden p.", so called 
because the bird was sexless 
and did not reproduce itself 
in the ordinary course of na- 
ture, but arose from its ashes; 
V. v. 41. 

Pillars, the insignia of cardi- 
nals; II. iv. (stage direction). 

Pinked, pierced with holes; V. 
iv. 53. 

Pitch, height, dignity; (Warbur- 
ton, "pinch"; Theobald conj. 
"batch") ; II. ii. 50. 

Pity, subject for compassion; II. 
iii. 10. 

Plain-song, simple melody, with- 
out variations; I. iii. 45. 

Play; "make my play"; i. e. 
"win what I play for"; I. iv. 
46. 

Pluck off, abate from the rank; 
II. iii. 40. 

Porringer, cap shaped like a 
porringer or porridge bowl; V. 
iv. 53. 

Powers, people of highest power 
and authority; (Vaughan 
conj. "peers"); II. iv. 113. 

Powle's, i. e. St. Paul's Cathe- 



167 



Glossary 



THE LIFE OF 



dral; (Ff. 1, 2, "Powles" ; F. 3, 
"Poiile's"; F. 4, "Pauls"); V. 
iv. 17. 

Practice, plot, artifice; I. i. 204. 

P a yE M u N I R E, a Writ issued 
against any one who has com- 
mitted the offense of intro- 
ducing foreign authority into 
England; (probably a corrup- 
tion of prccmonere) ; III. ii. 340, 

Prayers (dissyllabic) ; II. i. 77. 

Peeferr'd, promoted; IV. i. 102. 

Presence, presence-chamber; III. 
i. 17; King's presence, IV. ii. 
37. 

Present, present moment; V. iii. 
9. 

Present, immediate; I. ii. 311. 

Press, crowd, mob; (Ff. 1, 2, 
"preasse"', F. 3, "preass"); V. 
iv. 92. 

Prime, first; III. ii. 162. 

Primer, more urgent, more 
pressing; I. ii. 67. 

Primero, an ancient game of 
cards, fashionable in those 
days; V. i. 7. 

Private, alone; II. ii. 12. 

Privily, privately; I. i. 183. 

Privity, concurrence, knowledge; 
I. i. 74. 

Proof; "in p.", when brought to 
the test; I. i. 197. 

Proper, fine, (used ironically) ; 
I. i. 98. 

Purse; "the p.", i. e. the bag 
containing the great seal car- 
ried before him as Lord Chan- 
cellor; I. i. 114-115. 

Put off, dismissed; I. ii. 32; dis- 
card, dismiss; II. iv. 21. 

Putter on, instigator; I. ii. 24. 

Quality, nature; I. ii. 84. 
Queen, play the queen; II. iii. 
37. 



Raised head, levied an army; II. 
i. 108. 

Range, rank; II. iii. 20. 

Rankness, exuberance; IV. i. 59. 

Rate, estimation, scale; III. ii. 
127. 

Read, learn, take example; (Col- 
lier conj. "tread"); V. v. 38. 

Receipt, reception; "such r. of 
learning"= the reception of 
such learning; II. ii. 139. 

Respect; "dear r.", i. e. intense 
regard; V. iii. 119. 

Rinsing, {vide Note) ; I. i. 167. 

Rub, obstacle, impediment; (a 
term in bowling) ; II. i. 129. 

Run in; "is r. in," has run into, 
incurred; I. ii. 110. 

Saba, the queen of Sheba; (the 
Vulgate "Regina Saba") ; V. 
V. 24. 

Sacring bell, the bell rung at 
mass at the elevation of the 
Host; (Rowe, Pope, "scaring 
hell") ; III. ii. 295. 

Salute, touch, affect, exhilarate; 
(Collier MS., "elate"); II. iii. 
103. 

Saving, with all due respect to; 
II. iii. 31. 

Saw, "we s."; i. e. saw each 
other, met; (Ff. 3, 4, "saw 
y'");l.i.o. 

Sectary, dissenter; V. iii. 70. 

Seeming, show, appearance; II. 
iv. 108. 

Sennet, a set of notes on the 
trumpet or cornet, played at 
the entry or exit of a pro- 
cession; II, iv. (stage direc- 
tion). 

Set, sitting; III. i. 74. 

Set on, set forward; II. iv. 241. 

Shot; "loose s.", random shoot- 
ers, skirmishers; V. iv. 63. 



168 



KING HENRY VIII 



Glossary 



Shrewd, ill, ill-natured; V. iii. 

178. 
Shrouds, sail-ropes, rigging of a 

ship; IV. i. 73. 
Sick, sick with pride; II. ii. 83; 

feeble. III. i. 118. 
Sicken'd, impaired; (Theobald 

conj. " slacken' d"); I. i. 82. 
Sign, set a stamp on; II. iv. 108. 
Silenced; "the ambassador is s.", 

i. e. "commanded to keep his 

house in silence," (Hall's 

Chronicles)', I. i. 97. 
Single, sincere, untainted; V. iii. 

38. 
Slept ttpon, been blinded to the 

faults of; II. ii. 43. 
Slightly, smoothly, rapidly; (S. 

Walker conj. "lightly") ; II. iv, 

112. 
Solicited, informed, moved, stir- 
red; I. ii. 18. 
Something, somewhat; I. i. 195. 
Sometimes, sometime, at one 

time; II. iv. 181. 
Sooth, truth; II. iii. 30, 
Sought, gave occasion for, in- 
curred; V. ii. 15, 
Sound, proclaim; V. ii, 13. 
Sounder, more loyal; III. ii. 274. 
Spaniard; "the S.", i. e. the 

Spanish court; II. ii. 90. 
Spann'd, measured, limited; I, i. 

223. 
Sparing, niggardliness; I. iii. 60. 
Spavin, a disease in horses ; I. iii, 

12, 
Speak, bear witness; II, iv, 166; 

describe, III. i. 125, 
Spinsters, spinners; I. ii. 33. 
Spleen, malice, enmity; I. ii. 174, 
Spleeny, hot-headed; III. ii. 99. 
Spoil, destroy, ruin; I. ii, 175. 
Springhalt, a disease in horses; 

I. iii. 13. 
Stand on, rely upon; V. i. 122. 



State, chair of state, throne; I. 
ii.; canopy; I. iv. (stage di- 
rection). 

Staying, waiting; IV. ii. 105. 

Still, continually, constantly; II. 
ii. 126. 

Stirs against, is active against; 
(Collier MS., "strives"); V. iii. 
39. 

Stomach, pride, arrogance; IV. 
ii. 34. 

Stood to, sided with; II. iv. 86. 

Strains, embraces; IV. i. 46. 

Strove, striven; II. iv. 30. 

Suddenly, immediately; V. iv. 
87, 

Sufferance, suifering, pain; II. 
iii. 15. 

Suggestion, underhanded prac- 
tice, craft; IV. ii. 35. 

Suggests, incites; I. i. 164. 



Tainted, disgraced; IV, ii, 14. 

Take peace, make peace; II. i. 
85. 

Talker, a mere talker (as op- 
posed to one who performs his 
promise) ; II. ii. 80. 

Temperance, moderation, self-re- 
straint; I. i. 124. 

Tendance, attention; III. ii. 149, 

Tender, have care, regard for; 
II. iv, 116. 

That, so that; I. i. 25. 

This, (Ff. "his") ; V. iii. 133. 

Throughly, thoroughly; V, i. 
110. 

Tied, brought into a condition of 
bondage; (Ff. 1, 2, 3, "Ty'de"; 
F. 4, "Ty'd"', Hanmer, 
"Tyth'd") ; IV. ii. 36. 

Time, present state of things; V. 
i. 37. 

To, against; III. ii. 92. 

To BE, as to be; III. 1. 86. 



169 



Glossary 



KING HENRY VIII 



Top-proud, proud in the highest 

degree; I. i. 151. 
Touch, hint; V. i. 13. 
Trace, follow; (Clark MS., 

"grace") ; III. ii. 45. 
Tract, course, process; I. i. 40. 
Trade, beaten track; (Warburton 

"tread") ; V. i. 36. 
Tremblistg; "a tr. contribution," 

a c. so great that it makes the 

giver tremble, (or, (?) makes 

us tremble); (Collier MS., 

"trebling") ; I. ii. 95. 
Trow; "I t.", I believe; (Ff. 1, 

2, "troa"); I. i. 184. 
Truncheosters, men with clubs 

or truncheons; (Ff. 3, 4, 

"Truncheons") ; V. iv. 57. 
Types, distinguishing marks, 

signs; I. iii. 31. 

Undertakes, takes charge of; 

II. i. 97. 

Unhappily, unfavorably; I. iv. 

89. 
Unpartial, impartial; II. ii. 107. 
Unwittingly, unintentionally ; 

III. ii. 123. 

Use; "make u.", take advantage 
of the opportunity; III. ii. 420. 

Used myself, behaved, con- 
ducted myself; III. i. 176. 

Vacant, devoid, empty; V. i. 
125. 



Values; "not v.", is not worth; 
I. i. 88. 

Virtue; "by that v."; by virtue 
of that office; V. iii. 50. 

Visitation, visit; I. i. 179. 

Voices; "free v.", candid opin- 
ion; II. ii. 94. 

Voice, vote; I. ii. 70; rumor, gen- 
eral talk, III. ii. 405. 

Vouch, testimony, attestation; I. 
i. 157. 

Wag, move; I. i. 33. 

Was, "w. too far"; i. e. went be- 
yond proper bounds; III. i. 65. 

Way, way of thinking, religious 
belief; V. i. 28. 

Ween, deem, imagine; V. i. 135. 

Weigh, value; V. i. 124. 

Weigh out, outweigh; III. i. 88. 

Well said, well done; I. iv. 30. 

Whoever, whomsoever; II. i. 47. 

Will, desire; I. ii. 13. 

Will'd, desired; III. i. 18. 

Wit, understanding; III. i. 72. 

Withal, with; III. ii. 130. 

Witness, testimony; V. i. 136. 

Work, outwork, fortification; V. 
iv. 65. 

Worship, noble rank, nobility; I. 
i. 39. 

Wot, know; III. ii. 122.- 

You, yourself; I. iv. 20. 



170 



STUDY QUESTIONS 

By Anne Throop Craig 



1. What is the evidence as to the first enactment of the 
play? What as to the probable time of its composition? 

2. For what occasion may it have been completed? 

3. Are there other hands than Shakespeare's evident in 
it? What are the criteria to this effect? Cite passages in 
support of the opinion. 

4. What characteristics of Henry are made plain in the 
drama? 

5. What portrait is drawn of Anne Bullen? What im- 
pression do we get of her character? 

6. What are the strong points in the drawing of Kath- 
arine ? 

7. From what was the historical matter of the play de- 
rived ? 

8. What strong point is brought out through the re- 
verses of those in power in the play? How are their char- 
acters shown through them? 

9. Were there other plays in which Cardinal Wolsey 
was a central figure? 



10. What great pageant has taken place, as referred to 
by Buckingham, Norfolk, and Abergavenny in scene i? 
What do they complain about it? 

11. What does Buckingham say of the Cardinal of 
York that is significant of the latter's political methods? 
What do we also learn of his claim to power? 

12. What is Buckingham's attitude of mind at the time 
of his arrest that adds to the dramatic effect ? 

171 



Study Questions THE LIFE OF 

13. What others are arrested with him, and why? Who 
has instigated the arrests? 

14. What measure of deference to Katharine as Queen 
is shown by Henry in scene ii? 

15. What plea does Katharine bring to the King? 
How does Wolsey evade the issue, in this connection? 

16. What is related of Buckingham before the King 
and Queen? 

17. How is Katharine's attitude toward Wolsey and to- 
ward the tales against Buckingham shown, in this scene? 

18. What is said of the lavishness in entertaining, of 
Wolsey, in scene iii? 

19. What main purpose in the drama does the introduc- 
tion of the revels at York Place serve? 



20. Detail the report concerning Buckingham, at his 
trial. 

21. What were Wolsey's reasons for sending Surrey to 
Ireland? In this connection what further is said of Wol- 
sey's methods with whoever came into the king's favor? 

22. What is revealed as the cause of Wolsey's wish to 
stir the king towards a divorce from Katharine? 

23. What instance of the Cardinal's tyrannical rapacity 
is given in the opening of scene ii? 

24. What is hinted as the cause of Henry's "troubled 
conscience" ? 

25. How does Norfolk speak of the matter of the di- 
vorce, — and of the Queen? 

26. What is apparent of the nobles' feeling towards 
Wolsey ? 

27. What personal manner does Henry display in scene 
ii? 

28. What does Campeius say to Wolsey of the people's 
gossip relative to the installation of Gardiner? What 
does this show of incidents that made for eventual senti- 
ment against Wolsey? 

173 



KING HENRY VIII Study Questions 

29. What impression of Anne Bullen's sincerity is given 
through the remarks of the Old Lady, in scene iii? 

30. Relate the substance of Katharine's lines in the trial- 
scene, and describe the personal impression it conveys. 
What is said of Mrs. Siddons' acting of this passage? 

31. How does the Queen express herself towards Wol- 
sey? How does he receive her speeches to him? 

32. Wherein is the note of hypocrisy in Henry's 
speeches after Katharine's withdrawal from the Court? 

ACT in 

33. Describe the opening of scene i, and its dramatic ef- 
fect with regard to Katharine's state of mind? 

34. How does she meet the two Cardinals? What is the 
tenor of her talk with them? 

35. What letter falls into Henry's hands to the undoing 
of Wolsey? Which of the Lords take advantage of it? 
and why? 

36. What had been the errand of Cranmer for the 
King? What is predicted for him on account of its per- 
formance ? 

37. Was the incident of the King's discovery of Wol- 
sey's appropriation of public moneys a true one as re- 
garded Wolsey? What were the facts of it? 

38. What were the several articles of the charge against 
Wolsey ? 

39. How does Wolsey accept his degradation ? In what 
ways is the effect of it upon himself made to appear 
salutary? 

ACT IV 

40. How are we introduced to the action of Act IV? 

41. What is related of the situation as regards Kath- 
arine ? 

42. Describe the pageant of the Coronation. 

43. Why is the transposition of the dates of Wolsey's 
and Katharine's deaths necessary to the best dramatic order 
of events in the play? 

173 



Study Questions KING HENRY VIII 

44). Describe the scene of Katharine's last hours. 

45. What two aspects of Wolsey do the lines of 
Katharine and Griffith counterpose? 

46. What colleges were founded by Wolsey? JIow has 
Edmund Campian, in his Historie of Ireland, described 
Wolsey? How does this description tally with that de- 
veloped in the drama? 

47. How did it happen that Katharine was left poorly 
attended at Ampthill? 

48. What did she recommend to the King in her last let- 
ter to him by Capucius? 



49. What is the main matter of Act V? 

50. What was Gardiner's reason for expressing less 
good will toward Anne Bullen than toward her newborn 
child? 

51. Through what passages is there presage of the re- 
ligious factions that were eventually to disturb England? 

52. What do Gardiner and his faction plan against 
Cranmer ? 

53. What incident makes the King suspect them of mal- 
ice as well as enmity? 

54. What advice did Henry give to Cranmer to assist 
him against the other faction? What token did he give 
him to obtain a revoke? What was the historic power of 
such a token? 

55. What methods of secret vigilance did our ancestors 
devise in the building of their houses, and why? 

56. How does Cranmer meet the charges brought against 
him in the council chamber? 

57. How is this matter related by Fox? How does the 
King resolve it in the drama, upon his entrance? 

58. Describe the pageant of the christening. 

59. What is the prophecy of Cranmer with regard to 
the child Elizabeth? 



174 



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